Beyond Spaceland
by Bernern Gnewell
Summary: Buffy, Angel, and their groups are sent on a mission to stop the First Evil from destroying almost all of the multiverse. But, to save all of existence, some people will have to be willing to make the ultimate sacrifice. Mass crossover.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: This is a work of Fan Fiction. I own none of the characters portrayed within this story. _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ and _Angel_ were created by Joss Whedon and are owned by Mutant Enemy. Further disclaimers will be provided on a need-to-know basis, at the end of each chapter. If a work is in the Public Domain, no copyright information will be provided. Likewise, disclaimers will not be provided for works that are only referenced or mentioned, as I believe this falls within the domain of fair use. However, an exception will be made for John Myers Myers' novel _Silverlock;_ as the title has been borrowed for an original setting in this story, proper credit must be given to the man who came up with the name.

Silverlock Castle

There is no way to start this story without it seeming abrupt, for what happened was very abrupt. Abruptly, eight people felt a sharp push on their stomach. Their world seemed to collapse itself into a single line and, as they were pushed across this exo-universal plane, an entire pinstripe of universes flashed by.

But it only lasted a few seconds, and when it was over they were in a library roughly the size of the crater some of them had recently left behind. They stood squarely in the center, on top of a light purple rug that stretched out and underneath dozens and dozens of bookshelves. Looking up, they could see that the library contained many floors, each hanging back several meters from the edge of the one below. The result was like a very large cone, stretching out towards infinity in all directions, until distance compressed the distant floors into small slivers of wood that resembled a wall of toothpicks. It was impossible to say how far away or how large the roof was, except that it was very far away and very large. A glass circle sat in the center, but there was no sky to speak of. There was nothing there. It's hard to describe, or even remember—no one, at a later time, would be able to picture this scene again—but, outside that window, not even blackness existed. Even when they stared at it, their attention would always get drawn away, back to the wooden frame or the bookshelves. There was a window, but the void outside contained all the color of something just outside your field of vision.

"Where the hell are we?" asked Buffy.

"I don't know," said Xander. "Cleveland?"

"Where we are isn't even our main concern," said Giles. "It's curious, but unimportant. Right now, I'm more worried about who brought us here."

"You're not the only one," said Angel.

It was at this moment that Buffy realized Angel was there. She turned around, and there he was, accompanied by two strangers, one a young leather-clad woman with traces of blue dye in her hair, the other a balding black man with a face that suggested both toughness and sophistication. Looking over her own team, Buffy saw that Giles, Willow, Xander, and Spike were the only of her companions to join her.

"Spike!" exclaimed Buffy. "Aren't you… kinda dead? I mean, deader?"

"I was," said Spike. "But… well, it's a long story that involves jewelry and lawyers. Rather not get into it right now."

"Well, if that's the weirdest thing that happens today…" started Xander.

"Weird or not, I'm glad that army didn't follow us here," said Gunn.

"Well… yeah," said Angel, almost sounding disappointed. "But I still would have liked to slay that dragon…"

"An army _and_ a dragon!?" said Xander, more interested in this fight than any mystical group-kidnappings. "And you never thought to mention them when you got to Sunnydale? 'Cause, we kinda woulda liked to know if _another_ army was coming to kill us."

"What are you talking about?" said Angel. "The army wasn't following me last year."

"Don't play dumb with me" said Xander. "Or dumber, as the case may be. If you weren't here since last year, who brought the amulet that made Spike explode?"

Spike looked back and forth between Xander and Angel, then frowned as he realized he'd have to take sides.

"As much as I like to razz Angel," he said to Xander, "I feel I need to point out that you're an idiot. That _was_ last year."

"I never thought I'd say this," said Giles, "but Xander was right. That incident was _very_ recent."

"You don't think I can tell the difference between bursting into flames a year ago and bursting into flames 'very recently?'"

"I would have assumed you could before now, but there you go."

Gunn stepped between both parties. "Am I the only one that thinks time travel's involved here?"

"No," said Willow. "Uh, I mean 'no' as in, 'No, I, too, concur with the time travel hypothesis.' That would explain things. The only question is whose time we're in. If anyone's."

"The answer," said a strange British voice, "is that you are in no one's time."

The owner of the voice was well-hidden. The parties looked around, but this was mostly involuntary; nobody thought the voice would hide in that room if it planned to stay hidden after starting a conversation.

"That's odd," said Angel. "I can smell someone here, but I can't make out where. They're more than just invisible. It's as if they're… this is impossible."

"It is incorrect to say that anything is impossible," responded the voice. "However, I do apologize for not standing in your line of vision."

A single line made itself visible in the center of the room. Slowly, it began to expand into a square. A blanket or some other such clothing was draped over its body, though its head—for lack of a better term—was uncovered. Part of its brain seemed to peek out from under the cloth.

"I am A Square," the creature said. "This building is called Silverlock Castle, and it is not in your dimension."

"I can see that," said Xander.

"This is starting to remind me of _Flatland_," said Willow.

"That is not surprising," responded the Square, "for that book was based off my life, much as your own life has been chronicled in the television programs of other worlds." The square then, somehow, placed a copy of _Flatland_ by Edwin Abbott Abbott on the table before him. His doing so without arms seemed perfectly reasonable at the time, but in the seconds afterwards, this would be another image no one could recollect or comprehend.

"Sure," said Spike. "And you really expect us to believe that bull?"

"No," said the Square. "As I didn't at first believe of the Third Dimension's existence, neither do I expect you to believe in the existence of dimensions beyond yours."

"Some of us have learned to be open-minded about these things," said Xander. "Let's hear it."

The Square looked the party over—or, at least, it seemed to be looking them over; truth be told, it was hard to follow its paper-thin eyes from that angle. At any rate, it tilted around a bit before it began to speak.

"I am but a humble square, born in the Two-Dimensional world you know as Flatland. The particulars of my story can be found in the tome of that name, though, for this tale, you need know only of my contact with the Sphere. He was a being who came from the Third Dimension to tell me of the wonders of Spaceland. Yet my people were reluctant to accept this new knowledge, and my attempts to spread it led only to persecution.

"That is the end of my book, but not my story. So entranced was I by my memories of a Third Dimension that I dedicated my whole being to reentering it. It often felt futile, as I'm sure you can imagine, but not a minute had gone by that I did not try to recollect the nature of being ON something without being Northward of it. It seemed impossible, even to I, who had been to the Third Dimension. Yet, eventually, I succeeded, and found myself moving out of the Two-Dimensional confines of my cell and into the freedom of Spaceland.

"But this, which would more than satisfy any other denizen of my old world, failed to appease me. I began to dedicate my life to the study of each dimension, and how I might find the fourth one—the one that expanded beyond Spaceland. Having already traveled to the Third Dimension, it was only a few years before I accomplished this."

"The Fourth Dimension?" said Willow. "You mean, like, time?"

"And you learned to transcend time just by concentrating?" said Giles sceptically.

"Yes," said the Square. "But it was time of a linear sort. With time, an object's existence stretches across more than its visible, physical dimensions. But only in one dimension."

"And time goes in more than one dimension, then?" asked Spike.

"Of course," responded the Square. "Much as the lines of the First Dimension cannot comprehend the Second, neither can most of us, confined to a linear timeline, imagine a Second Temporal Dimension. However, as you are all limited to Three Dimensions, catching only glimpses of the Fourth, I will explain this in terms you can understand. If we look at things only from the perspective of the present, a world with _only_ Three Dimensions, time stands still, a chronological dot like those of the Zeroth Spatial Dimension. If we acknowledge a Forth Dimension, even one we cannot travel through at will, time moves forward, like a line of the First Dimension. If we go beyond even that, if we stretch time itself into the Fifth Dimension, forcing our timeline to take on a Two-Dimensional form, then we must acknowledge what happens if time splits into other dimensions."

"Like alternate worlds," said Illyria. It wasn't a suggestion.

"No," said the Square. "Alternate worlds are the nature of the Sixth Dimension. The Fifth Dimension entails a divide in the timeline, whereas the Sixth is a new timeline entirely. If you went back in time, that would branch off an alternate timeline—a shift in the Fifth Dimension—while leaving your own world whole. This would be most noticeable if you created a major change in history—if you prevented Socrates' birth, for example. However, even your presence in that world for one fraction of a second would create a branch, albeit one that would resemble your own world in most ways. Of course, many splits can occur naturally, without time travel."

"So, if someone decided to, say, use magic to alter the past," said Willow, "and, in that past, I became a vampire, then that world would exist parallel to ours in the Fifth Dimension?"

"Precisely," said the Square.

"Ah," said Willow. "Because, I've already seen that. I pulled my vamp self from that world and everything."

"Then you have more experience in this area then I have suspected," said the Square. "No doubt, then, you are aware that the Sixth Dimension is not a split in time, but rather a completely new timeline, existing ON but not Northward of yours. Say you turn on your TV, or open a book. What you are witnessing there is another world—a Sixth Dimension."

"Pardon me?" said Giles, again, sceptically.

"So you're saying the Sixth Dimension isn't real?" asked Xander.

"The Sixth Dimension isn't real!" exclaimed the Square. "Why, were you not listening to my own story? It's as real as the Fifth! My world was chronicled in yours as a book, and yours is chronicled in other worlds. I do not know why this is, though I suspect it may result from memories that are rendered latent by reincarnation, which is independent of dimensions. An alternate theory suggests that artists possess a special power to bring forth foreign worlds through their words and images, though I, myself, find this possibility a remote one. But I digress—my point in bringing you here is to tell you that you will be going to many other worlds. You will likely recognize some of them yourself."

"Wait… we'll be going where?" asked Gunn. "When did we agree to this?"

"You haven't yet, though you will," said the Square. "Or all universes shall die."

There was a brief pause of unpleasant silence as this news sunk in.

"So… all of them, huh?" said Buffy. "That's a lot of apocalypses."

A brief pause, because each of our party was an old hand at this sort of thing.

"It is," said the Square. "During my pilgrimage through the other dimensions, I met many beings whose knowledge of other worlds and their makings exceeded my own. I was eager to learn; and learn I did, from many of the greatest minds in any existence. Yet I soon realized that the multiverse's existence is a frail one, and one that must be protected. Alas! Never did I dream that existence could be so fragile! But it is so; I have learned that reality is not self-sustaining. Like all entities, it requires energy to survive. In this case, the energy is provided by seven… but they have no name. They predate even language. Yet I was told to call them Batteries, because that word best describes their nature. There are seven Batteries, each one held within the life of one being somewhere in one of the many universes. The beings, I am told, should be called the Bearers. The Battery survives as the Bearer does, drawing energy from their life force and soul. Then, when the Bearer dies, the Battery is taken by an all-knowing being known only as the Faceless One, who will use its energy to sustain the universe. The world can survive only as long as this immortal… but again I err. He is not immortal, for he has been killed by the one you know as the First Evil."

"What, we have to deal with it again?" asked Xander. "We just got finished thwarting it."

"Then you should be grateful for that one familiarity in this romance," said the Square, "for there will be many new, frightening challenges to come. Fortunately, you will not be alone. There are others wiser than I with whom I have gathered to help solve the problem of our impending doom. You can discuss these matters with them. Please follow me."

Then the Square once again slipped into the Fourth Dimension. A few minutes later, probably when he remembered that the Scoobies were still stuck in "Spaceland," he slipped back in, and he hopefully looked sheepish, but that was hard to tell.

"If you would prefer the door, of course, we can use that path."

*

Inside the room sat three of the greatest minds ever held in what was once presumed to be the world of fiction.

Nibbler, from _Futurama. _A being whose race had existed since before the Universe began.

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, from _Harry Potter_. Said to be the greatest Wizard of his age.

And Mr. Peabody, from _Rocky and Bullwinkle_. Perhaps the world's smartest dog.

"So, you're here," said Dumbledore. "I assume that Square has explained the dire circumstances to you?"

"End of the world and all that?" said Xander. "Yeah, we got the gist of it."

"The gist is just the beginning!" said Nibbler. "With the Faceless One gone, there is no one left to redistribute the Batteries once their Bearers die. You have, at most, several decades before one of them expires and the universe will go out, like a light bulb in a strong wind."

"You mean a candle in a strong wind," said Giles.

"No," said Nibbler. "I mean the universe will shatter violently into a trillion pieces, like a light bulb in a _very_ strong wind."

"But we have a long time, right?" said Buffy. "I mean, what are the chances of these guys dying any time soon?"

"Quite high, actually," said Mr. Peabody. "The First Evil is trying to kill them as we speak. Remember, Nibbler said you had several decades at the _most_. The actual length of time will likely be much, much shorter."

"Okay, so we're in a hurry," said Angel. "I assume you want us to revive this Faceless Guy?"

"I wish it was that easy," said Dumbledore. "But no, I'm afraid that he can't be brought back, no matter what magic you use. Don't think we haven't tried, but, even with access to the most powerful magic created by any mind, we could not restore life to him. The First Evil has came into a lot of powerful allies lately, and it's managed to prevent anyone from resurrecting him. I'm afraid the only way to save the universe is to track down the seven Bearers and convince them to become martyrs."

"So that's all," said Spike. "Find the right seven guys and kill them? Wait, no… we don't know who they are! So maybe we had better kill _everyone _we come across until the universe stops falling apart. Or is that what you want? Really now, how stupid do you think we are? For all I know, _you are_ the First Evil, or some other sort of spirit."

"He's right," said Xander. "The First Evil turned into dead people, maybe he had a neglected brother that turns into characters from books and cartoons. The Second Evil. And your story doesn't even make any sense. You just said killing these guys would trigger the apocalypse, so shouldn't we be trying to make them, y'know, not dead?"

"Could you please let me finish?" said Dumbledore? "Thank you. Not that I don't appreciate a healthy dose of skepticism, mind you, but I am a busy man, and cannot spend all day explaining this. Now, as I was saying, you'd have to convince them to become martyrs. They don't actually have to die—but they need to think they're going to." Dumbledore pushed back his chair, then pointed to a large, diamond-encrusted golden door in the distance. "Behind that door is the Pool of Life. It is the oldest object in the known multiverse, and the pool from which all life and matter stem. It is this pool that the Faceless One had always released the Batteries into after each Bearer's death. The pool absorbed the energy the Bearers had absorbed in life, thus renewing its own energy and allowing it to continue sustaining existence. Afterwards, the Batteries would be sent back out into the multiverse, and their next Bearer. Now that the Faceless One is dead, however, the Batteries won't be redirected into the pool. Our only hope, then, is to make sure they're already in the pool when they're released. Fortunately, a safeguard has been built in for such an emergency. If the Bearers are submerged in the pool, and they are drowned, the Batteries will be released. Of course, since the Pool of Life is the source of… well, life, it will revive the Bearers once its energy has peaked—in other words, once all seven Batteries are absorbed into it. Unfortunately, the plan is not without flaws. The Pool of Life can only work if those entering it believe they will die, and they cannot be forced into it."

"Why?" asked Giles.

"That much, we cannot tell you."

"That's very convenient."

"I agree. Now, does everyone understand their mission?"

"Mostly," said Angel. "Except for the part where we go into other universes, many of which may have had _no_ concept of magic before our arrival, and convince some people to kill themselves because we say so."

"You'll figure something out," said Mr. Peabody. "Now, if you'd hurry, Mr. Square is ready to take you to the worlds the Bearers are in. Unfortunately, this is all we know about their identities. The only way to recognize a Bearer is with a Slayer. It is a very specific method of detection, I know, but the Faceless One thought it would protect them from being found by any unsavory characters, since the Slayers rarely traveled between worlds, and were usually heroes. Thus, their Extrasensory Battery Detection—or ExBaDet, for short—would be available as a last resort if we needed it, but could not be used by evil to find or threaten the Bearers. Unfortunately, he didn't realize that the First Evil would be able to detect Batteries itself, if it transformed into a Slayer. Now, if you want to save the Universe, Buffy needs to go, and her companions need to be people she can work with. Because Square can bend time as well as dimensions, since the Sixth Dimension cannot be crossed until the Fourth has, he can drop you off in each world before the Bearer is killed. Do be careful, though; each world's time flow is constant. If the Battery is destroyed, you won't be able to go back again and save it."

"Um, excuse me, Mr. Dog," said Giles. "Not to sound rude, but how do you know this?"

"I know everything," responded Mr. Peabody. "After all, I am a genius."

*

-

*

Mr. Peabody was created by Ted Key, and is owned by Bullwinkle Studios.

Nibbler and _Futurama_ were created by Matt Groening, and are owned by 20th Century Fox Television and Gracie Films.

Albus Dumbledore and _Harry Potter_ were created by J.K. Rowling and are published by Bloomsbury.


	2. I i

"_For whoever keeps the whole law and yet stumbles at just one point is guilty of breaking all of it."_

--James 2:10.

Princess Ozma of Oz

The land our heroines and heroes found before them was one of vast beauty. Everything in it, from the trees to the birds to the Yellow Brick Road that stretched into the distance, seemed to exude more life than most people do. It was a relaxing beginning to their adventure; everyone had half expected to show up in hell, and only a quarter meant it metaphorically. Nonetheless, this beauty fooled no one into thinking their time would be too pleasant to sow anything but contempt for the gorgeous landscape before them.

Xander motioned towards said Yellow Road. "Well, at least we know where we are. And we know the Wicked Witch's weakness."

"And we have a pretty good idea of where to so," said Spike.

And they did go down that Yellow Brick Road. At first, they were cautious, as there was no telling when anything from a velociraptor to Cthulhu could jump them. But their imagination was their only foe for this journey.

After several hours the non-undead, non-otherworldly members of the group were beginning to tire. Fortunately, a cabin was growing visible in the distance. It was large and round, looking very much like a pumpkin, and with a stovepipe growing out the top of it.

"That's weird," said Willow.

"We know," said Xander.

"No, I mean this is Jack Pumpkinhead's house. But it should be in the Winkie Country. If the Yellow Brick Road is here, then this must be the Munchkin Country."

"Well, Baum never was known for consistency," said Spike.

"You've got to hand it to her," said Gunn. "The girl knows her Oz geography."

"And to think, I have trouble with _American_ Geography," added Xander.

"Well, I read the books a lot as a kid," said Willow. "I always wanted to be magical, just like Ozma. Of course, I knew that would never happen. Until about five years ago. I still remember how, when I started dating someone named Oz, I thought it was a sign that we were meant to be together forever. Up until about four years ago, when another woman came between us. Well, technically two women."

"Oz sounds like a cad," said Gunn. "A damn lucky cad, but still a cad."

"He wasn't that bad," said Willow. "But I guess that, no matter how perfect things seem, there's always a darkness somewhere. Even with Oz."

With a creak, the pumpkin door opened up, and out stepped a tall, skinny man-like construct. It was difficult to tell what was more alarming between his loud clothing—which included purple pants and a pink vest—and his broad grin, which was placed on the front of a pumpkin.

"Why, it would seem I have visitors," said the man.

"You must be Jack Pumpkinhead," said Xander.

"And you must be Francis," was his response.

"Close. Xander." He then went on to introduce his acquaintances. After he pointed out that none of them were named Francis, and Angel clarified that he was not actually named "Ass Face" as Xander had claimed, Jack Pumpkinhead spoke again.

"I'm sorry for the confusion," he said, "but you were so good at guessing my name, though we have never met, that I didn't want to seem ignorant." Coming from any other man, this would have seemed sarcastic, but Jack honestly didn't seem to care how these strangers knew his name.

"I read about you," said Willow. "You see, I come from a different world, where your life is part of a book."

"Ah, of course," said Jack. "That would explain everything. But why have you come to Oz?"

"We have to find someone," said Buffy. "I don't know who… yet… but I will when we see him. Or her. Or it."

"Well, I must admit, I'm glad to hear that," responded Jack. "The last time strangers appeared here, they attacked the Winkie Country and forced me out of my home."

"You mean the Witch?" asked Xander.

"Alas, no," responded the Pumpkinhead. "I wasn't even alive when the witch was vanquished by Dorothy. I'm afraid the Winkie Country has been attacked again. They didn't succeed in taking the country over, of course, because Ozma turned their leader into a statue, and only agreed to turn her back if the army withdrew. But I can't help but worry that they'd return, and so I moved my house away from their borders."

"Tell me," said Angel. "How many people attacked Oz?"

"I didn't count," said Jack, "but there was a whole army. Much larger than our army of 27 officers."

"How many soldiers are under the officers?" asked Angel.

"None," said Jack. "We had a private, but he was promoted because officers are usually braver than privates."

"I see."

"But we still don't need to worry," said Jack happily. "Ozma won't let anything happen to anyone."

"Could you tell us where Ozma is?" asked Xander.

"In the Emerald City, of course," responded Jack. "If you need me to take you…"

"No thanks," interrupted Angel. "We know about the Yellow Brick Road."

"You can at least rest here for a while," said Jack. "You appear to be made of meat, so you must tire."

"We don't have time to rest," said Buffy. "Someone could be in danger."

"Don't be silly," said Jack. "No one can die in Oz."

"Maybe we should rest," said Xander to Buffy. "Mr. Peabody wouldn't have dropped us here just to let us die of exhaustion. Well, unless he knew for a fact that the First Evil would become corporeal and trip over our bodies."

Buffy thought about that. "I guess you're right." She then turned to Jack. "Do you have enough room in your house for all of us?"

"Of course," said Jack. "Glinda has given me a magic room that can hold an entire army. She said I might need it for any soldiers forced to march through this land."

Jack opened the door to his home, then led his friends through the innards of the pumpkin to a golden door that hung a few feet from the wall. It seemed like a gag, but when Jack opened it, the door revealed a hospitable room on the inside. It was the size of a gymnasium, with yellow-sheeted Decuple-Decker Beds resting everywhere. The beds were all especially beautiful; the posts seemed to be made of solid gold, and jewels were scattered about like sprinkles.

"I get the third from the top!" shouted Xander before running towards the nearest bed and climbing the ladder.

"You realize, of course," said Giles, cleaning his glasses, "that these things cannot possibly support their own weight?"

Xander stopped climbing.

"That would be true in any other land," said Jack, "but not in Oz. These beds have been magically reinforced, so they cannot possibly collapse."

Xander began climbing again.

"Why do you need so many beds?" asked Angel. "You said your army only has 27 people."

"That's true," said Jack. "And Oz is a peaceful place, so the army likely won't grow. Our enemies have many soldiers, however, and, as Ozma said, they need to rest as well."

Buffy stared back at Jack Pumpkinhead, trying to deduce from his carved visage whether he was joking. It was hard to tell from his eternal smile, but his tone sounded sincere.

Xander, who had been in the process of removing his shoes, dropped them to the floor and leapt straight to the ground before turning to look scan the other beds for enemy soldiers.

"Wait a minute," said Gunn. "Did you just say what I thought you said?" He turned to Buffy and Giles. "Did he just say what I thought he said?"

"I certainly hope not," said Giles.

Buffy passed by Gunn and looked Jack straight in his hollow eye. "Why would you give the _enemy_ a place to sleep?"

"The enemy needs to sleep too," repeated Jack. "If we don't give them a house, they'll sleep outside. They wouldn't lose any of their numbers by doing so, so providing them with this very basic comfort won't affect the outcome of the war. We will save the poor souls from unnecessary suffering, and may even help diplomatic relations between our lands when the war ends."

"What you are saying is wrong," said Illyria. "A well-rested enemy is more dangerous than a tired enemy."

"But they aren't really our enemies," said Jack. "As Ozma said, our enemies are the rulers who start the war, not the soldiers who are forced to fight it. The people are only doing what they're told to. They do not deserve to suffer, and denying them a bed won't help our side bring about justice."

"This is very bad military practice," said Giles. "You're keeping your enemy's morale up, and _that__'__s_ going to affect the outcome of the war. And as for the only following orders idea, I'll only say that when the Nazi regime gains power in a few decades, you'll be singing a significantly different tune."

"You'll have to speak with Ozma about this," said Jack. "I am merely a humble pumpkin farmer. Even if I had the brains to decide such things, I'd lack the authority."

"Okay, then," said Angel. "We'll speak to Ozma tomorrow morning. But, I'll say right now that I agree with Giles. Your enemies aren't going to hold back just because you're nice to them."

*

"Come on, can't we hold back a little?"

"No." Azula didn't even bother looking up from her parchment when she spoke. "No one has ever won a war by holding back."

Ty Lee sat on the ground and crossed her legs behind her head. "But they were so nice to us. Ozma didn't even sound mad when she told us to get out of the kingdom and never look back if we ever want to see you move again."

"That doesn't mean I have to return the favor," said Azula. "Between the Magic Belt and the people's immortality, there is no way to take Oz by force. The only way to fight Ozma is psychologically, and that will require us to be as ruthless as possible."

"But you are already so ruthless," said Ty Lee. "Don't you think that, maybe, 70% will be enough?"

Azula threw her hairbrush hard into Ty Lee's skull. This was the extent of her response, then she went back to writing her speech.

"I don't think that getting Ozma angry is going to help," said Mai, emotionlessly. "Unless you liked being a statue."

"I'm not going to become a statue again," said Azula. "Grandfather's spirit contacted me again last night and told me that Ozma's Magic Belt will lose its power if it leaves Oz."

"But then you won't be able to use it, either," said Ty Lee. "And I thought that was the whole reason Fire Lord Azulon sent us here. He wouldn't have came back from the dead if he didn't want us to gain something."

"I'm not planning to destroy the Magic Belt," said Azula. "But if we can make Ozma leave Oz, she'll have to leave the belt behind."

"And then she'll be completely helpless!" said Ty Lee. "And we won't have to hurt anyone!"

"Of course not," added Azula, smiling for the first time in weeks. "We'll hurt them because we want to." Then she returned to writing her speech.

*

The Emerald City looked much the same as it had in the film—massive and bright green. Fortunately, the famous gatekeeper from the film hadn't appeared at the door to interfere, so Buffy and her friends were led directly into Ozma's throne room. Ozma herself was a teenager—no more than sixteen—but her face showed maturity most adults don't have. On either side of her was a great beast—a lion on the left and a tiger on the right—yet both creatures seemed as tame as a Buckingham Palace guard. Even so, there was something about the way she sat easily against her throne, black hair tucked neatly behind her back, that made one wonder if she cared—or even knew—that there was a war going on.

As soon as she entered the room, Buffy felt a strange urging inside her. It was unusual and seemingly baseless, yet it was overwhelming, and she knew exactly who the first Bearer was.

"Excuse me," said Giles brashly, "but I'd like to talk to you about your politics."

"I understand," said Ozma. "You're not from Oz, so you're having trouble adjusting to my rule. Rest assured, you'll be used to everything before long."

"Will I?" asked Giles. "Well, I think I should tell you that much smarter people than you have failed to impress me."

"You seem to claim great knowledge of someone you don't even know," commented the girl ruler. "Care to elaborate on your concerns?"

"My concern," said Giles, "is that you are in a war that you obviously have no idea how to fight, and you refuse to appoint someone that knows what they're doing."

"That is a reasonable concern," said Ozma, "but it seems to have been made based on a hypothesis rather than a fact. Do you see any evidence that the Fire Nation has caused any serious damage?"

"People could get hurt—" said Giles.

"No," said Ozma. "Not in Oz—inside these borders, neither pain nor death exist. I suspect that is why Azula has chosen to invade our country. Besides, she won't dare attack us again because I have threatened to turn her to stone if she does."

"And why do I suspect that you have no intention of keeping that promise?"

"In fact, I have every intention of keeping it. If she attacks us, knowing as she does the consequences, I see no reason to save her. It will have been her choice—not mine."

"Yes, well," said Giles, but he couldn't finish. As much as he wanted to disagree with Ozma, he found that he had ran out of points to disagree with. Whether this girl was or was not an incompetent general was irrelevant. It seemed she could afford to pamper her enemies. "Well, you don't seem to need us, but perhaps you can be of some assistance. You see, we are looking for—"

"No, it's okay," said Buffy. "I found who we're looking for."

"You have?" said Giles. "Oh, good. Then we just need to… umm, I'm sorry, Ms… Ozma, but we could use…"

"You would like a room to discuss things in," said Ozma. "Of course. Dorothy? Would you please show them to the guest room?"

At which point someone that was far too young to be Judy Garland entered the room. "Dorothy" led the gang out of the throne room, through the corridors, and to a magnificently decorated emerald living room, filled with the sorts of anachronistic furniture that could have only been added for them.

"I hope this room is to your liking," Dorothy said.

"Well, it's better than my apartment, that's for sure," said Xander, looking over the DVD player and widescreen TV.

"This is as nice as that hell dimension Wolfram and Hart stuck me in, but without the phonies or the disembowelment" said Gunn. "And although it doesn't sound like it, that _was_ a complement."

"I'm glad to hear that," said Dorothy. "I'll leave you alone now." And to top everything off, the polite young girl curtsied before departing.

"I wish Dawn was that well-behaved," said Buffy.

"And I you were," said Giles. "But right now, making Ozma give up her throne and sacrifice her perfect life to our cause takes priority over comparative teenager—"

"But Ozma isn't the Bearer," said Buffy.

"She isn't?" asked Gunn. "Then who is?"

"The lion," said Buffy.

"The _lion!__"_ exclaimed Gunn. "As in the Cowardly one?"

"That lion was a lot bigger than the one in the movie," said Xander. "And less bipedal."

"That was the Cowardly Lion, all right," said Willow. "In the books he's a lot bigger, and he isn't anthropomorphic, but it's him."

"Terrific," said Giles. "So now we need to convince the _Cowardly_ Lion to become a martyr."

Spike seemed to take great offence to this last comment, as he turned to Giles, wearing the scowling face of a disapproving headmaster. "And tell me, Rupert," he said, "have you ever even read the book _or_ seen the movie?"

"Well, of course I've seen the movie," said Giles. "Though my literary tastes tend to be more in line with Beowulf than Baum."

"Well, if you've seen the movie, you should know that the whole bloody point of the Cowardly Lion's character was that he I _wasn__'__t_ a coward because he did things that scared him."

"I understand that," responded Giles. "But he _thinks_ he's a coward, so he won't agree to let himself die if it isn't urgent."

"And you don't think the destruction of the whole blooming multiverse is urgent?"

"Urgency and importance are not the same thing. If he procrastinates here, the First Evil could do god-knows-what to bypass Oz's immortality. For all we know, his new partners are more powerful than Ozma _and_ her belt."

"Don't worry," said Buffy. "He'll come with us. By the end of the day, he'll be back at Silverlock Castle, awaiting his faux execution."

"And how do you propose we do that?" asked Giles.

"However we have to," said Buffy.

*

The door flew open. Angel stepped in, followed closely behind by Buffy and Spike, then by everyone else. The group marched straight to the Cowardly Lion and formed a semi-circle around him. The Hungry Tiger stood straight and began to growl, but Ozma raised her hand to silence him.

"There is no need for violence yet," she said. "If they wished to hurt us, they would have tried before now."

"We need your help," said Angel.

"I would be glad to help however I can," said the Cowardly Lion. "But I don't know what a cowardly creature like me could do."

"Well… you'll have to… well," Angel, eyeing the Hungry Tiger nervously, took a few awkward seconds trying to find a euphemism for suicide, but none had the right amount of 'eu' to them. "Have you ever head of a guy named Jesus?"

The Lion shook his head.

"I don't allow religion in Oz," said Ozma. "Religion in other parts of the world has always led to intolerance and persecution, which is why anyone caught practicing religion in Oz is to be executed."

"Well, Jesus was a man who died so that humanity could be saved. He was considered a martyr."

"That sounds like a very sad story," said the Lion. "I am glad that I shall never be asked to die, for that is what I fear most of all. But what favor is it you want to ask of me?"

"Well… you see…" said Buffy. Then she started from the beginning…

*

Spike shook the bars of the prison cell before turning to the other inmates. "That worked."

"This is the second time an Oz betrayed me," said Willow. "Who would have thought a Mary Sue like Ozma would lead to the destruction of… well, everything."

"At least things couldn't get worse," said Xander.

Buffy and Willow both glared at Xander.

"Xander, we've been over this," said Willow.

"What?" he said. "Do you really think things will somehow get worse just because I said, 'Things couldn't get worse?'"

*

"The Fire Nation has sent three ambassadors to meet with you, your highness," said a royal soldier of Oz.

"Send them in."

The door slid open, and in walked three women, each barely any older than Ozma herself. The leader was a serious-looking girl with short, black hair, and a bun held tightly in its round shape by a crown. She was followed by a depressed-looking girl with a pointy chin and a ponytail-wearing brunette in dim pink.

"Greeting, Lady Ozma," said the leader. "I am Azula of the Fire Nation. I have come to propose a truce."

"I would be happy to accept your offer," said Ozma.

*

-

*

Azula, the Fire Nation, and all other _Avatar: The Last Airbender_ characters and concepts were created by Michael Dante DiMartino and Bryan Konietzko, and are owned by Nickelodeon Studios.


	3. I ii

Battle with the Fire Nation

"How long have we been down here?" asked Xander.

Gunn glanced at his watch. "Five minutes since the last time you asked."

Xander looked at Gunn, then leaned his head back. "Eight minutes, then. Gonna be a long—"

The door to the dungeon creaked open. Ozma entered the room and walked gracefully down the stone steps to meet the prisoners from the outside of their cell.

"What do you want?" asked Spike.

"I'm here to let you out of your cell," said Ozma. "And don't worry about the Cowardly Lion. He'll come around eventually."

"Wait, what's going on?" said Giles.

Ozma laughed and shook her head as she unlocked the cell door. "Tell me, if someone showed up and asked you to kill yourself, what would you think?"

"That they're part of a cult," said Giles. "And I certainly wouldn't let them out of their cell and—"

"Shut up," said Angel.

"No, he's right," said Ozma. "And when you showed up, asking the Cowardly Lion to kill himself, and going on about Jesus, what was I supposed to do? If I didn't try to stop you, then the Cowardly Lion would assume there was no danger involved, and then his essence could not be used to recharge the Pool of Life."

"You knew about that?" said Buffy.

"Of course," said Ozma. "Glinda was among those that helped create the Pool of Life, and she told me about your meeting so that I could watch it with my Magic Picture. That is why I will help you escape. You must not tell the Cowardly Lion that I helped you, however, because he knows that I would never try to get one of my subjects killed. If anyone asks how you escaped the cell, you'll have to tell them that you" (she pointed to Willow) "broke the law and used a spell. You have my permission to cast others, by the way, though you must not let others know I granted this."

"Deal," said Buffy, who was unaware that magic had been illegal to begin with. "Now where is the Lion?"

"He and the Hungry Tiger are preparing to take me to the borders of Oz so that I may discuss a peace treaty with Azula of the Fire Nation."

"But the Magic Belt doesn't work outside of Oz!" said Willow.

"I know," said Ozma. "But I can't refuse a discussion of peace."

"Even when you're walking into a blatant trap?" asked Giles incredulously.

"Even then," said Ozma.

"But you'll get yourself killed!"

"Not necessarily," said Ozma. "I'm leaving the belt with Glinda so that she can keep it from falling into Azula's hands, and I myself am bringing the former Wizard of Oz, for his magic will protect me, even outside Oz."

"So you've brought the Wonderful Wizard of Oz's magic for your protection?" said Xander. "Well, that's like… you know, I don't think there is a single example in high or popular culture that better exemplifies what you're doing than what you're_ actually doing!_"

"Ozma, would you try to use some common sense?" said Giles. "These people have already attacked you, then they suddenly request a truce that would require you to forfeit all your power—oh, damn." (Mid-sentence, Giles realized that Ozma had already decided to ignore him and teleport everyone into the far corner of the Winkie Country.)

"I guess we should look for Ozma, then," said Xander.

"Bloody brilliant," muttered Spike. "If anyone can fig—"

But Spike, too, was suddenly cut off, this time by the sudden ignition of his flesh. He reflexively jumped around for several seconds and leapt towards the group, at which point the smoke stopped raising from his skin.

"What the hell was that?" said Spike.

"That would be the sunlight," said Angel.

"The sunlight?" Spike looked back in the sky. The sun was as much there now as it had been when he stood a few feet to the west. "Wait… was that always there?"

"Yeah," said Angel. "I was wondering why the sun didn't burn us up. Now, thanks to you, I know that there's something in Oz that stops us from getting roasted. Either the sun is being filtered, or we're being protected… I don't know what, but now I do know that without protection, any world's sun could burn us, so we'll have to be just as careful in the other worlds as we are in our own. I guess you are good for something after all."

"She teleported us to the border?" said Willow. "This must be where she's planning to meet the Fire Nation. Wait… there's supposed to be a desert surrounding Oz."

"Then maybe we're not at the border," said Giles.

"Or the sand was covered with grass and soil," said Willow. "The First Evil probably did that so the Fire Nation could cross the Deadly Desert without… well, disintegrating like people are supposed to when they cross the sand."

"Fatal sand, hmm?" said Giles. "Ozma's idea?"

"Don't know," said Willow. "I can't remember if that was ever explained."

"Doesn't matter," said Buffy. "Waiting here is still our best shot. I'll stay here to protect her. Can anyone else fight?"

"I know my way around a stake," said Gunn.

"If I so chose," said Illyria, "I could destroy every member of this party before any of you could land a single ineffectual blow against me."

"Good. Gunn, grab your weapons. You and Willow should stay with me to protect Ozma and fight off the army. Spike? Angel? You can't fight here because the sun will burn you up the second you step out of Oz. Stay on this side and try to get the Magic Belt from Glinda and bring it—"

"Don't!" said Willow. "If the belt is taken out of Oz, then it'll be destroyed."

"Oh, right. Well, take the belt and leave it on that rock." She pointed to a stone that Spike was sitting on. "Now, there's still a chance that Ozma teleported us to the wrong place. Xander, Giles, and Illyria; you three should try to find her. Ask around, figure out where she's coming from, and try to stop her from getting here. That should cover everything. Anyone want to add anything?"

"Just one thing," said Giles. "Ozma seems to have an almost lemming-like desire to get herself killed. We may need to use force to keep her from coming."

"Then you can use force," said Buffy.

"I wasn't asking for your permission, actually," said Giles. "But thanks."

*

Angel and Spike headed towards the south and, if Willow's vague directions were accurate, Glinda's castle. Of course, a good quarter of anything could be classified as the 'south,' so Angel and Spike had to ask for more specific advice. The first thing they encountered was a short, blueish transparent creature with a flat-topped head. Closer inspection revealed it to be made of glass and filled with water, with its head open at the top like a bowl.

"What's that?" asked Angel.

"No idea," said Spike. "Oz Historians never mentioned that. Doesn't look dangerous, though," he decided, then approached the creature. "Excuse me. Is this the Quadling Country?"

"Well, that depends on who wants to know," responded the creature.

Angel stepped forward. "Us. We're good guys."

"I am glad to hear that, but that was not what I meant," said the creature. "You see, our land is divided into many peoples and cultures, and not all of these are under the same political group. I, for example, do not acknowledge Ozma as our proper ruler, and so I do not call this land the Quadling Country, but rather the Herelands."

"Okay," said Angel. "Fine. Well, if we were to ask someone such as, say, me, who desperately needs to find Glinda, would I be in the Quadling Country and, more to the point, where would I go to find her?"

"I can't tell you that," said the creature. "For all I know, you might be planning to overthrow Ozma."

"What if we are?" said Spike. "You said five minutes ago that you live outside Ozma's jurisdiction." An argument like that was a longshot, but he hoped it would work.

"It's true that we do not accept Ozma as our ruler, but Glinda is still an important part of our lives. Because our heads are open, the water within our body evaporates quickly, and so we need to refill constantly. Glinda has agreed to bring a rainstorm every week, thereby ensuring our survival. If she were conquered, however, then the rain may not come regularly, and we would all dry up."

"But aren't you immortal?" said Angel.

"Yes," said the creature. "But as everyone knows, death is not the only end. Without water, our organs will shut down, and we will become motionless as statues."

"But, eventually, it would rain," said Angel.

"Of course," said the creature. "But no one wishes to be a statue for weeks at a time."

"Of course. But this is very important. If we don't find Glinda, the universe will be destroyed."

"Even if you are telling the truth," said the creature, "we'll be safe. Glinda has separated Oz from the rest of the world."

"That won't save you," said Angel. "Everything—including Oz—will be gone."

"I find that hard to believe," said the creature. "The only way to destroy all universes would be to cut off their power. But Oz has its own power, separate from even the Pool of Life."

"_You_ know about the Pool of Life too?" said Angel. "Am I the only one who didn't know about this?"

"I heard Glinda mentioning this. Was it supposed to be a secret?"

"Well, at least we have someplace to fall back on," said Spike.

"Spike," said Angel. "You can't—"

"No, I think this might work," said Spike. "If bad comes to worse we'll just evacuate everyone here. Sure, squeezing an infinite number of inhabitants times an infinite number of worlds into a single finite country will get kind of crowded, there'd be no food, and almost everyone would have their bodies crammed together like sardines, but they'd still be alive, right?"

"Barley," said Angel. Then he caught on. "I mean, right. Oh… wait… what if these guys are stuck at the bottom? The rain couldn't reach them. They'd never touch water again."

"I doubt that," said Spike. "With no decent places to go, though, I doubt the water that reaches them would be very clean. Say, mate…" Spike leaned slightly towards the creature. "You can live off recycled water, right?"

"That's disgusting!" exclaimed the creature. "If that's my fate, I'd risk a century of droughts! I'm sure Glinda can defend herself if you do mean her harm, anyway. Her castle was moved underground after the invaders' first attack. There's a cave about half a mile south of here, located in the center of the Sunmen Caverns."

"What, pray tell, are the Sunmen?" said Spike.

"The Sunmen are a very violent race of creatures whose bodies give off pure sunlight," was the response.

"Pure sunlight," said Spike. "You mean, like, it's really bright, or literally the same as sunlight? I mean, would a vamp ignite just standing near them?"

"A what?"

"Vamp. Bloodsucker. _Vampire._"

"I don't know," said the creature, "for Oz is a peaceful place, and nothing as wicked or disreputable as a vampire has ever been here."

"Now just one minutes, you miserable mother—"

"Hold it." Angel grabbed his partner's shoulders and pulled him back. Spike turned to face Angel, scowling slightly, and sneaking only a single glance at the bowl-headed creature.

"Well, what do we do if these things _do_ give off the vampire-hating brand of sunlight?" Spike asked Angel.

"We go in anyway," said Angel, then turned and walked to the south.

Spike swore under his breath, then ran after.

"And then what, die?"

"No," said Angel. "We're going to cover ourselves so that we don't die."

"And in what?"

Angel stopped, then looked around. "Whatever we happen to find on the way."

"Whatever we find on… what do you think, that we're just going to run into…"

Spike stopped to stare in awe. There was a tree growing in front of them. It was large and triangular, almost like a pine tree, but with smooth, soft leaves in place of pins. While the other trees kept their leaves hoisted well above their midpoint, this one let its foliage hang almost to the bottom. While all the other trees grew fruits, nuts, or—occasionally—cheeses, this one sprouted several full-body suits of spandex, reminiscent of what a comic book hero would wear, and complete with a mask and helmet.

"And what is that?" asked Angel.

"Nothing I recognize from the books," said Spike. "Oz is a damn big place, it seems."

"You must truly be heroes," said the bowl-headed creature. "That is a magical tree that Glinda planted many years ago. When a truly good person who is in need of a garment approaches it, the tree will sprout whatever piece of clothing they most desire."

"Glinda actually made a tree for that?" asked Spike.

"Of course," was the response. "Good people shouldn't be forced to travel naked. That's why she grew the Karma Suit Tree."

"Huh." Spike reached towards the tree and plucked off a suit. "Well, at a time like this, these suits are looking pretty sexy, all right."

Spike then slipped on the suit, finishing soon after Angel. The suits were bright red with darker parts forming an intricate pattern. Spike thought that he and Angel looked too much like two Red Power Rangers. The suits even had visors.

Angel and Spike then made their way to the south, hoping their angle wasn't off by enough to overshoot the mark entirely. To compensate, Angel and Spike each walked off in a V formation to widen their collective field of vision, but this proved unnecessary; the cave appeared between the two. Had they traveled straight, they would have bumped right into it.

They crept through the cave, trying to step lightly enough to compensate for the blood-red suits.

After years of fighting scary demons and monsters that drew equally from mythology and horror, it was difficult to take the next step. The Sunmen looked like they should have been four inches tall and standing in Dollar Stores. They were small—four or so feet, at the most—and very circular. Their arms and legs were thin and fleshy, with bare hands and feet on the ends. Their body, however, looked like a glowing orange rock. The light they gave off seemed to form a wall of visibility around them, the darkness holding back out of respect for their stumpy selves.

"That's them, I guess," said Spike.

"They don't look so tough," said Angel.

"I know," said Spike. "Scares me, too."

Both vampires ran towards the group. The nearest Sunman charged Spike and took a clothesline to the forehead. Its body was hot enough that heat like that of a freshly heated pan could be felt even through the costume. Spike decided not to think about what bare skin would feel like against that.

Angel knocked a Sunman back into several others. Another latched onto his leg and was quickly kicked off. A third grabbed painfully onto his back, but was removed when Angel rammed backwards into the wall.

Spike kicked an approaching enemy in the gut, then punched the face of an opponent coming at him from behind. One of the Sunmen leapt at him—he could hardly believe it! Spike ducked under, then rammed it from below with his shoulder. I mean really, who the hell _leaps_ at someone, he thought?

"Honestly, do you guys even know how to fight?"

The Sunmen stopped in unison and exchanged glances—something that would have proven fatal, had Angel and Spike still been taking the fight seriously enough to bother with the opening.

"To be honest, we didn't think it was necessary," said one of them. "Learning to fight is forbidden in Oz."

"Surprise, surprise," mumbled Spike.

"We're not from Oz," said Angel. "So why don't you just let us go, and we'll leave you alone. Sound good?"

"Ah, but we don't have to let you go," said one of the Sunmen. "We've figured out your secret."

"What secret?" asked Spike.

The Sunman jabbed Spike through his glass visor, too suddenly for the vampire to counter. Immediately, the unblocked sunshine shone through on his scolding flesh.

*

After much asking around and studying maps, Giles was able to locate what he thought would be the most logical path for Ozma to take. Part of him felt it was also the least likely choice, but he had no other leads, so he, Xander, and Ilyria headed towards the area.

As beautiful as the environment was, it was difficult for anyone to take his or her mind off the battle that would soon rage across it. Xander, desperate to sedate his imagination, decided to break the silence.

"So… Illyria, is it? How did you meet Angel?"

Illyria looked at Xander, and seemed upset, if only for a second. "He found me in a cave in another dimension," she said flatly.

"I see," said Xander. "So, what dimension were you from?"

Illyria turned to look into the distance. "It was called Pylea. It was horrible. I was treated like cattle."

"You know," said Giles conversationally, "Illyria was the name of a particularly nasty demon from our world's prehistory. It's really quite a big coincidence that you share the same name."

Illyria didn't respond.

Xander did. "No offense, Giles, but do you think it's a good idea to start a conversation with a semi-stranger by saying, 'You know, I heard of this _other_ guy named Adolf. Funny you have a name like that."

Giles promptly took to removing all traces of soot from his glasses. "Well, I was just trying to make conversation. I'm sorry if I…"

"Apologizing is unnecessary," said Illyria. "It doesn't change the fact that I am named Illyria. Besides, I wasn't offended any more than you'd be if I said that my world has a creature named Giles, who killed millions of children, neither for food nor sport, but merely because they were there, and their sight disgusted him."

"Well, I don't think I'd be too happy to hear that, to be quite honest. I'm sorry, again, for the Illyria thing. There isn't really a Giles in your world, is there?"

"Come on, don't worry about things like that," said someone from behind. "Life is always better if you concentrate more on the roses than the thorns."

When the party turned to face the stranger, they found a young cartoon tween standing behind them. She was dressed in reddish-pink tights, wore her brown hair in ridiculously long braids, and had the sort of smile that fell just short of looking like it came from a burlesque adaptation of _The Brady Bunch_.

"Ummm… yes?" said Giles. "May we help you?"

"Geee… I don't know," said Ty Lee. "Azula sent me here to capture you, and it would be a _super big _help if you'd come along without a fight… but I don't think you'd do that."

"I should think not!" said Giles.

"Yeah… I didn't think so. Well, I guess I'll have to attack you, then."

Illyria got to her feet and stepped forward with all the confidence of a brick wall blocking an egg.

"You are outnumbered, and you have no idea who we are, yet you seem confident," she said. "Either you are a great warrior in your world, or you are stupid. Tell me, have you ever destroyed entire legions on your own?"

"On my own?" said Ty Lee. "What do you think I am, the Avatar? I can definitely take three people, though. Unless you're all Ultra Kung Fu Masters or something, of course."

"Then you are not a great warrior," said Illyria. "Leave now and I won't kill you."

"It sounds like you're getting a good offer," said Xander. "I suggest you take it—preferably very far away."

Ty Lee instead leapt like an acrobat and tried to kick Illyria in the face. She was grabbed by the feet and swung hard into the ground.

"That was not a smart choice," said Illyria.

Ty Lee somersaulted into a standing position. A smile slipped across her face for only a second. Before anyone knew what was happening, Ty Lee had passed by Illyria, poking many different parts of the demons' body with her fingers. Illyria's arms and legs began to move oddly, as if numb, and her entire body fell to the ground.

"Oh my God!" exclaimed Giles. "What did you do to her?"

"She paralyzed my muscles," said Illyria. "The body won't do what I tell it."

Giles drew his crossbow and pointed it at Ty Lee, but she kicked it out of his hands and pinched Giles' upper thighs. The Watcher toppled and fell, knocking himself unconscious when his head made contact with a log laying hazardously on the ground.

"Whoa," said Xander, backing away from Ty Lee, trying not to break eye contact. "There's no need to get violent now, is there? I won't hurt you. Do you see a weapon on me? Come _on!_"

Unfortunately, Xander was too busy keeping eye contact to notice a root sticking out of the ground right behind his feet. Before long, he was lying flat on the ground.

"It's nothing personal," said Ty Lee, standing above Xander. "But you're an enemy, so I have to take you in. If you come along quietly, maybe Azula will spare you."

Ty Lee dropped to her knees and quickly paralyzed Xander's limbs.

"You know," she added, almost as an afterthought, "you are kind of cute."

*

It was hard to say whether Azula looked intimidating or not. She barely seemed older than Buffy herself had been when she came to Sunnydale, and yet the general seemed to carry herself with more confidence and dignity than the Slayer—or even Giles—had been able to manage on their best day. Behind her fire-red military garb and almost inhumanly stiff hair, Azula's hard gaze seemed to combine the worst of Faith's cold fighting spirit with a Watcher-like aversion to any sort of fun. Buffy hoped that these gut impressions were wrong, except for the part about the aversion to fun, because Azula looked like she would derive fun from some very unpleasant things.

Remembering how tough she herself had been, even at that age, made her acutely aware that Azula most likely would not be commanding an entire army at _her_ age without a very, very good reason.

The army! Somehow, Azula's threatening-through-its-innocuousness appearance made Buffy forget about the large army of red-clad adults behind her, marching ever closer to the borders of Oz. Now that she thought about it, the army would probably be a problem.

"Well, at least it's smaller than the last one," said Gunn.

Azula gave one of those evil smiles you only see on television or in movies. "You're the Slayer, right? My father's spirit told me you'd try to stop me."

"Yeah?" said Buffy. "Did he mention the part where I succeed?"

"You? Win? Funny—he said you'd have an entire army of warrior women with you."

"Yeah," said Buffy. "Well… the talking Square didn't bring them for some reason."

"Really? Sounds like my allies are better than yours."

Gunn shook his head. "I knew I should have asked the Square to bring backup… or at least, I wish I'd known I should have, because then I would've."

"Wow, you guys are good at the banter thing. Maybe you should have become clowns instead of heroes."

"Don't worry," said Buffy to Gunn. "All I have to do is get the Wicked Bitch of the East. With her gone, Ozma won't have anyone to negotiate with, so she won't have to leave Oz. After all the demons I've faced, a few humans shouldn't be a problem."

"I wouldn't suggest that," said Azula. "The second you step off Oz, you become vulnerable."

"Funny," said Buffy. "You're already off Oz."

Then, with super-human precision, Buffy threw a knife straight at the spot between Azula's eye.

But Azula stopped it mid-air with a burst of flame from her hand.

"Right. But I'm not vulnerable."

"Damn," said Buffy. "Didn't know about the burning thing. Plan B, then."

Buffy stepped out of Oz and charged Azula, followed close behind by Gunn and Willow. Azula stepped back into the army, still smiling. The front row of soldiers—numbering about a half-dozen, stepped forward. All six of them threw a fireball. Buffy leapt out of the way and Gunn ducked just below an attack, but Willow wasn't so skilled. The witch was hit square in the chest and knocked back, landing just a few feet short of the border. Gunn and Buffy both ran to Willow and lifted her injured body between them. Before they could make it to Oz, Azula pointed her hand at the group and released a wave of blinding blue flames. When the inferno extinguished, there was no one left, and cremated dust began to snow onto the skeletons resting just beyond the magic border.

*

In the distance, Ozma sat in an approaching carriage, deeply wishing she could believe the vanishing blue flames and rising smoke were part of a bonfire.


	4. I iii

The Magic Belt

"Ow! My eyes!" screamed Spike. "The bloody visors do nothing!"

"Then cover them," said Angel. Another Sunman jabbed at him, but he easily parried.

Spike covered his eyes, then threw a kick at the nearest Sunman. "Get me the hell out of here, Angel!"

Angel kicked another Sunman aside like a goalie deflecting a soccer ball. Yes, that's a stupid simile, but the Sunman actually leapt at him, which was a stupid action, so there was no more appropriate way to describe Angel's counter. "Okay. Follow the sound of me beating the hell out of these things."

Angel proceeded to beat an opening through the gathering mob. He made his way towards the only other tunnel, the end of which was shielded by a darkness too deep for the Sunmen's light to penetrate. He assumed it led to Glinda, or at least a place with fewer Sunmen.

"Over here!" he shouted.

Spike, still covering his eyes with his entire right arm, ran towards the sound of Angel's voice, plowing through and stepping on countless Sunmen in the process. Angel ran through the hole and disappeared into the darkness, followed close behind by Spike.

The Sunmen didn't follow. Whether this was because the vampires had left their territory, they didn't know where their prey had went, or they were simply too naive to give chase, no one could tell.

*

The soldiers of the Fire Nation broke apart into a horseshoe-shaped formation as the Cowardly Lion and the Hungry Tiger pulled Ozma's chariot into the artificial plains. Once Ozma was inside, the horseshoe closed into a ring.

"Ozma," said Azula. "I'm glad you could make it. Thank you for taking the time out of your busy schedule to meet with me."

The Lion and Tiger growled.

"I was afraid you'd try to attack me," said Ozma, "That was the only reason I brought the Lion and Tiger, as well as the Wizard. I hope you realize that any of you who are hurt during my escape will suffer very serious injury, if not death."

And, cliché as it sounds, the army broke into laughter at that. It was, after all, funny.

"Kill the beasts first," said Ozma. "That way, Ozma will lose both her bodyguards and her transportation."

*

After passing through a dark cave and a dank dungeon of red stones and bricks, Angel and Spike found themselves in a living room, which consisted of a red carpet and numerous shelves of books and other magical things.

"I suppose you've come to take the Magic Belt to Ozma."

The speaker was a tall redhead, smiling at Angel and Spike with a radiant pulchritude that, combined with the modest beauty of her white dress, made Buffy look like Skip the demon.

"That's right," said Angel.

"I wish I could help," she said, "but I promised Ozma that I wouldn't let anyone else touch the belt until I have proof that the Fire Nation is planning to betray her."

"Why do you need proof?" said Angel. "It's obvious what they're up to."

"Evidence is not the same thing as proof," said Glinda. "Had I seen the Fire Nation plotting to destroy us in my Great Book of Records, I would be able to intervene. Unfortunately, my book never makes any mention of them."

"The book's supposed to say everything," said Spike. "If it doesn't mention an entire nation dropping in next door, there must be a spell on it."

"I know," said Glinda. "But I still must keep the Magic Belt safe until the army strikes, lest we break our treaty and discourage other nations from making peace with us. Besides, the belt would be easier to steal from you than from me, and if that did happen, we would be in even worse trouble than we are now."

"We won't lose it," said Angel.

"I'm sure you would defend it valiantly," said Glinda, "but Ozma's word is law, and I cannot break the law for anything. I wouldn't worry, though, because the second Ozma is attacked, I will use the magic belt myself to save her."

Glinda seemed so completely on-the-ball that both Angel and Spike assumed she already knew about the intruder that had just followed them into the cave. Someone threw a collection of blades at them, but Spike and Angel ducked out of the way. Unfortunately, Glinda's speed didn't match her wisdom, and she took a blade right to the throat.

A very stern-looking woman in a dark-red kimono emerged from the curtain of shadow that draped over the cave's entrance. Although Angel and Spike did not know her, she was Mai, one of Azula's closest confidants.

She kicked at the air, and a small wooden stake shot from somewhere around her ankle. Spike took the projectile in the chest, then fell lifelessly to the ground.

Angel ran at Mai. She quickly shot another stake from her ankles, then a wrist-fired stiletto to the ground on either side. Angel leapt to the right and avoided the stake, but a metal blade pinned his foot to the ground as he landed.

Mai waited for a few seconds longer than one should in a fight, and Angel realized that she was waiting for him to do something stupid, like bend down to free his foot and leave himself open. He faked just that, but quickly shot up and grabbed the stake that was heading for his heart. He threw it back at Mai, and she didn't have time to react before the piece of wood was lodged in her shoulder.

Angel took the opportunity to pull the blade out of his foot.

He and Mai began to slowly circle each other. Mai was holding several shurikens in her hand, and was gazing directly at the vampire she intended to throw them at.

"Hey!" shouted Spike. Mai turned to him, just for a second, but that was all Angel needed to leap at the woman and grab her in a bear hug. She struggled, but was unable to break free from the vampire's superior strength. Spike checked her limbs for weapons, and found the mechanisms she had been using to fire her projectiles. He removed them.

Angel turned to Glinda. She wore an expression on her pretty face that would have been quite heartbreaking in most circumstances, but was actually kind of funny here, since throat-stabbing usually leads to more dire consequences than a pout. "Do you have a jail cell?"

Glinda pulled out a pad of paper wrote on it, then handed it to Angel.

It said, in a very neat script, "In the next room."

"What happened to your voice?" asked Spike.

"She was stabbed in the throat," said Angel. "The dagger must have hit the voice box or… something."

"Ah," said Spike. "Wait… isn't having a voice kind of an important part of casting magic or using the Magic Belt?"

Glinda nodded.

"So you won't be able to get it back to Ozma," finished Spike as he forced Mai towards the cell.

Glinda shook her head.

Spike opened the door and disappeared through it with Mai.

"Well, I guess we'll have to take the belt, then," said Angel.

Spike came back through the open door just in time to catch the look of shock in the sorceresses' eyes.

"What?" he said. "This is what Ozma would want."

"But it's not what she asked for," said Angel. "I don't think she feels right letting us take the belt, even when she knows it's the only way. It feels like she let Ozma down, doesn't it."

Again, Glinda nodded sadly.

"And she knows we're gonna use it to turn the Fire Nation into lawn gnomes the second they step in Oz," said Spike.

Glinda seemed surprised. Perhaps se didn't know that.

"I am _really_ sorry about this," said Angel. Then the vampires fled with their new belt.

*

The Lion and Tiger both rose to their full height and ferocity, and the army froze. The animals would lose to this massive force—no one doubted that. Even so, a Lion or a Tiger can easily kill a few humans at close range, and these were very, very large specimens. None of the soldiers wanted to be among the thirty or so to get mauled before the beasts fell, which was why they were fighting much too defensively to threaten Ozma much.

Three feet to the west, in Oz, there was a bright flash of light, and Angel and Spike appeared.

"We have the belt!" shouted Angel.

"Don't!" shouted Ozma. "If you walk out of Oz, the belt will lose its magic!"

"And we'd lose our flesh," said Spike. "You'll have to get to us."

The Wizard, looking through the army towards Spike and Angel, suddenly lowered his eyes towards their feet. "Where did those skeletons come from?" he said. "They were not among our party."

"Skeletons?" Angel looked down at the dust at his feet, instinctively stepping off it

"They were here when we arrived," said Azula. "Of course, they were alive then."

"Willow? Gunn? Buffy?"

"If those were their names," responded Azula.

"There is no need to worry yet," said the Wizard. "They may still be alive."

"Alive?" said Spike. "In those piles of dust and bones on the ground?"

"But the dust and bones lie in Oz!" said the Wizard.

"It's so sad the way you cling to that false hope," said Azula. "But your friends weren't in Oz when I killed them, so there's really no chance they survived."

"I think you mean they weren't in Oz when you hit them," said the Wizard. "Their bodies were knocked back by the impact of your attack, and even very hot fire takes time to kill a person."

"So you're saying that, instead of being dead, they might just spend the rest of eternity as sentient dust and bones?" said Angel. "If the next words out of your mouth aren't, 'I can put them back together,' you had better stop talking."

"I _can_ put them back together," said the Wizard, "if they are alive."

"Really, Mr. Comedian? Do you have a placebo for that, too?"

"If you would help me get back into Oz, I will prove myself."

The Wizard then pulled a large, bronze catapult from underneath Ozma's chariot, stood on the launcher, and flipped the switch. He was thrown through the air, too high for the Fire Nation to touch, and landed roughly in Oz, where he could not be hurt by the fall. He then mumbled something incomprehensible and silly-sounding under his breathe, and all the specs of dust began to single in on the three skeletons, looking like many armies of ants in their motion, until they formed three piles over the bones. The Wizard mumbled something else, then each pile began to grow and morph into a human-like form. Color and texture began to return to the featureless lumps, revealing eyes, skin, and clothes.

Gunn, upon returning to his whole self, immediately turned to the Wizard. "Please tell me that was a nightmare."

"It was not," said the Wizard.

"Then you brought us back?" said Gunn.

"That is correct," said the Wizard, "for I have learned much magic by studying under Glinda."

"So he finally became a real wizard," said Angel. "Funny you never mentioned that, Spike."

"Thought it would be funnier if you didn't know," Spike told Angel.

"Willow?" said Buffy accusingly.

"I forgot," said Willow.

"How could you forget we had a real wizard?"

"The Wizard was never my favourite character. No offence, Mr. Wizard, but you did some horrible things when you took over Oz."

"No need to apologise," said the Wizard. "I admit to my past failings. I only hope I can help now. I'm afraid I've never studied offensive magic, so I don't think I would be of much use in a fight."

Gunn picked up his recently-regenerated crossbow. "Don't worry. You've redeemed yourself." He then fired an arrow into the leg of one of the many Fire Nation warriors surrounding Ozma.

Most of the soldiers could not reach the princess because of how ferociously the Cowardly Lion and Hungry Tiger knocked away anything that got near. They had maneuvered themselves to either side of Ozma, with each covering everything within a 90 radius around himself. Furthermore, the soldier's bravery did not outweigh their fear; their faces told that many were still too frightened to sacrifice their caution for an effective assault. Ozma was trapped, but alive.

"Why aren't they getting all burnt up?" asked Buffy.

"Because before Ozma left, she had me prepare a vile of anti-fire formula," explained the Wizard.

"And it works, even outside Oz?"

"Of course," said the Wizard. "If Dorothy could be transported into the middle of Kansas by her silver shoes without falling to the ground the second she left Oz, then the shoes must have maintained some magic even after leaving this land. For this reason, I knew my potion's effects would last even outside Oz, provided they were consumed in the fairy country."

"In that case, do you have any more of that stuff?"

He did. The Wizard pulled several small bottles of a bluish-white liquid and handed them to our heroes. As Buffy tilted the bottle, she noticed that the liquid seemed to flow very slowly, as if it were a gelatin. She popped the top off and drank the contents in one gulp. What felt like liquid frostbite slid down Buffy's throat, and she knew immediately that this was the inverse of drinking scolding coffee. The pain dulled, and a decreasing wave of coldness began to spread over her body—inside and outside—until she began to shiver.

"We'd better get in there and help," said Gunn.

"I'm cool with that," responded Buffy.

Buffy stepped onto the plains and promptly grabbed a sword from a nearby Fire Nation soldier, knocked him unconscious with an elbow to the face, and handed the weapon to Gunn. Two more soldiers attacked her, but she snatched the first one's sword, kicked the second one right in the stomach, and then knocked the first out with a hard punch to the forehead.

"Will, do you think you could teleport Ozma back inside the country?"

"Sure," said Willow. "Just hold on a sec while I try to get the spell ready."

Azula glanced towards Willow, then stepped towards her.

"That doesn't look good," commented Gunn, unable to take his eyes off the general.

"I'll protect Willow," said Buffy, "you worry about protecting them. Especially the Cowardly Lion."

Azula leapt across her army and landed firmly in Oz, only a few feet before Buffy, and already in a fighting stance.

"The lion's pretty important, huh?"

"You're not human, are you?" said Buffy. She was dodging the question and she knew it, but she didn't want the lunatic knowing _how_ important the lion was.

Azula threw a fireball directly into Buffy's eyes, but it merely felt warm. Nothing more than colored air. She had been so unimpressed by the maneuver that she didn't notice Azula rush forward and land a powerful strike against her throat. Buffy reeled back, and dropped her sword, and by then Azula was already on her, throwing rapid strikes at her face. She was definitely a professional, thought Buffy, but with an air of amusement. A Slayer, Buffy was still well beyond Azula's fighting skills. She quickly reached out and grabbed Azula's right hand with her left, then grabbed her left with her right, and pulled her arms down and head-butted Azula in the forehead. Now Azula reeled, but quickly regained her composure and leapt gracefully over Buffy's head, twisting the Slayer's arms unnaturally back until she lost her grip. Azula landed, free, behind her. By this point, they were both outside Oz again.

"You're quick and strong, I'll give you that," said Azula, backing away from Buffy. "But you leave too many holes in your defense."

"Think so?" said Buffy. "Try me. Five dollars says you can't touch me this time."

"We'll see," said Azula.

Then she turned towards Willow. Buffy glanced at Willow, whose eyes were glowing, whose hair hovered behind her, as she levitated behind the border. She was nearing completion of the spell, and she was in Oz, which made her immortal. Azula knew this, but she still took time to glance at Willow.

Buffy processed all of this in less than a second, and realized that Willow was in danger. Azula was a formidable young woman, and she wouldn't leave herself open without a reason.

Buffy ran to put herself between Azula and Willow. But, before she could, Azula pointed her hand out, and a brilliant blue bolt of electricity shot from it. Willow was hit, and she was thrown back, landing on the ground behind her. The Wizard ran to her, but the Immortal Willow lay perfectly still.

"Her heart has stopped," said the Wizard.

"Are you sure?" Buffy stepped towards them. "What does that mean, in Oz terms?"

"It means her heart is no longer pumping blood to her brain," said the Wizard. "She isn't dead, of course, but she cannot move without blood."

"Then revive her," said Buffy.

"That should not be a problem," said the Wizard.

Then the Wizard began to mumble another spell, but Azula quickly shot another bolt of electricity at him. Buffy couldn't even react before the Wizard was hit, and sent flying back even further. He crashed on the ground, also motionless.

"Well, isn't that something?" said Azula, now in Oz, walking slowly towards Buffy. "It seems the Wizard's potion didn't make you lightning-proof. So, let's look at the situation. Outside Oz, either of us can kill the other. Inside, you can't hurt me, but I can hurt you. Why don't you just quit now?"

Buffy turned to Azula, then threw a punch. She caught Azula right in the chin, sending her flying right over the border and back outside Oz. When Azula got back to her feet, she looked genuinely angry. That was good. It meant she hadn't baited Buffy when she caught her fist with her chin.

"You talk too much," said Buffy.

Azula leapt into the air and began to throw numerous fireballs with her hands and feet. The projectiles crashed across the dry grass, catching fire to the ground. As the fire raged harmlessly around her, and the smoke rose over her eyes, Buffy began to see the strategy. Azula was unfamiliar with her abilities. She didn't know that Buffy could "see" just as well without her eyes. The plan was that Buffy would be unable to see through the thick smoke, and unable to avoid her lightning. Azula didn't know that every move she made was picked up by the Slayer's other senses. Azula shot at Buffy, but even before she had finished aiming, Buffy had stepped aside, and the bolt had shot straight past her. Azula was the only one blinded by this plan.

"Missed."

Azula turned again. Buffy stepped aside, and Azula's attack once again shot astray.

"Missed again."

Several more seconds passed, but Azula didn't seem to act again.

"What's the matter? Gave up?"

Suddenly, the flames and smoke dispersed to either side. Before Buffy could register that Azula was there, pointing a hand straight at her face, she felt a sharp, sudden blast. The world seemed to spin as she fell back, landing against the ground, and the whole thing seemed so dream-like, there was no pain, she should have been dead, but wasn't. She was alive, she was immortal, but she couldn't think straight, and she was scared to move, or to try. She was scared to remember what a deathless paralysis would be like, to experience death without oblivion or without freedom. To be just a soul stuck in a piece of dead meat scared her.

Azula looked down, smiling. She was thinking, the stupid blonde girl had been a challenge. She was strong and surprisingly agile. Had Buffy been any smarter, she might have won. But she didn't know how quickly, how silently, Azula could move when she needed to.

Azula turned back to Ozma, still surrounded by the wall of men.

"Still holding out, I see?" said Azula. "You're tough. I'll have fun trying to break you."

She looked at her remaining opponents. Gunn was being overwhelmed by the Fire Nation army, and didn't seem to notice Buffy's pseudo-death. Angel and Spike were kneeling near the two other bodies. During the course of the fight, it seemed the only thing they had managed to do was move the Wizard and Willow closer together, presumably to protect both more easily. They hadn't interfered with Azula, probably deciding that there was nothing they could add to the battle in Oz, but with their champion gone, both of them now charged.

She smiled. She was less than a foot from the border. They couldn't reach her in time, and they'd be dead the second they stepped out of Oz.

Then, just as she turned to leave the country, she felt a sword smash hard into her right thigh. The break was painless, but the blow caused her to stumble forward, and the second she stepped across the border, the strength of her broken leg could no longer support its share of the body. Her whole form tumbled to the ground. She turned around, and there was Buffy, standing over her, smiling.

"How did you do that?" asked Azula.

"Funny story," said Buffy. "Turns out that Slayers have strong hearts. So I guess that you couldn't have hurt me. But I could hurt you."

"Don't get too confident," said Azula. "There's nothing to stop me from killing Ozma."

"You'd never escape," said Buffy.

"I might not," said Azula. "But Ozma definitely won't."

Then she pointed her hand at Ozma. But before she could attack again, the Hungry Tiger grabbed her in his maw. The warrior's dead face still had a surprised look, all but confirming that the Tiger's bite into her torso had killed her before she could feel any pain. The details of what happened next are neither pleasant nor necessary, and Buffy, thinking the same, decided to concentrate on helping Ozma back towards Oz. The short journey was a simple one, because many of the soldiers had been injured by the Tiger's dash. Those that were still standing, having been driven by their fear of Azula until now, had lost that motivation. Their fear of the Tiger, however, was even stronger.

Once she got back into her own land, Ozma nonchalantly slipped the magic belt on, then, with one quick motion, she revived Willow and the Wizard, then teleported the entire army out of sight with a second.

"Where did you send them?" asked Willow.

"To their own world," said Ozma, "wherever that may be."

"You mean I could have used that belt on them, even when they were outside Oz?" said Angel. "Damnit."

The Hungry Tiger now crawled bashfully to Ozma, bloodstains up to his front ankles.

"I'm sorry I broke my diet," said the beast, "but that woman was going to hurt you, and I couldn't let that happen."

"And I am grateful for your loyalty," said Ozma, "but you shouldn't have eaten her. What if you acquire a taste for meat now?"

"I am sorry," said the Tiger. "But when I realized that I might, I spit out that which I hadn't swallowed, as you can see for yourself."

Ozma was the only one that looked to confirm this. "I am willing to forgive your crimes, Hungry Tiger, because you did so to protect me, and it required so much bravery to do so."

"Protecting you required no real bravery on my part," said the Cowardly Lion, "because as much as I fear my own death, I fear your death more."

"I know that," said Ozma, "I know that you would gladly sacrifice yourself if you knew it would save any good creature, from the greatest princess to the humblest mouse."

"This is true," said the Cowardly Lion, "and for this reason, I'd like to reconsider the strangers' offer."

"So you believe us now?" asked Spike.

"I do not know if you are telling the truth or not," said the Cowardly Lion, "nor do I know that you and the Fire Nation were not secretly allied to trick me. However, if you are honest, then my going with you is the only way to save millions and millions of lives. I do not know the chances of your being truthful, for I do not have a head for numbers, but I know that the cost is very high, and the risk is surely worth it."

"Great!" said Spike. "Glad to see you're as brave as ever."

"There is no need to make fun," said the Cowardly Lion with a pout. "I am trying to be courageous, you know."

"Right. Sorry."

*

The first thing Giles' conscious form saw was Illyria, standing like a statue and watching Xander converse with the teenage warrior who was to thank for Giles' powerful headache.

"What's going on?" said Giles. "Why aren't they fighting?"

"The pink one didn't attack him," said Illyria. "After paralyzing him, they began to talk about how cute the one called "Xander" is and why the one called "Ty Lee" should leave Azula and live here. I think she is attracted to him. She agrees that she should switch sides, even though in her own world she is a powerful figure on the winning side of a war and in a good position to assassinate her superiors. I feel a strange resentment for her, and her continued interactions with Xander only intensifies it."

"But what if Buffy fails?" asked Ty Lee. "What will Azula do to me if she finds out I betrayed her?"

"Probably nothing good," said Xander, "but, sometimes, you've got to be brave. Besides, what will happen if you stay with Azula, and she loses?"

"That's a good point," said Ty Lee. "I doubt Ozma would let me stay here and open my own circus then."

("I expect she bloody would," muttered Giles, but he was ignored.)

"Okay, then, you've convinced me," said Ty Lee. "Though I would like it if Ozma would let Mai stay as well. She can be kind of gloomy, but she's basically a good person."

"Don't worry," said Xander. "Ozma's what we might call a Big Good. I'm sure she'd let Azula herself stay."

"If she's still alive," said Ty Lee, concerned. "I'm not worried about Mai, because she just went to take out Glinda, so she never left Oz. But Azula is outside the border. She might have been killed by now."

"Buffy doesn't like to kill humans. Even when they deserve it. Now, if Giles were there…"

"Bloody hell, Xander, I _am_ awake, you know," said Giles.

"I wish you wouldn't yell at him," said Illyria. "I desire to know Xander better, and it upsets me when I think you might be offending him."

"You what?" said Giles. "Oh, for crying out loud, not again."

"Your choice of exclamations is odd," said Illyria. "You act as if my attraction to Xander is reminiscent of a previous one."

"Oh, do I?"


	5. Silverlock Castle 1

At Silverlock Castle, Part 1

Right then, our heroes were pushed back through Time and Space, landing in Silverlock Castle. This time, they were not in the library, but in a nondescript room of stone. The entire party was back together again, with the addition of the Cowardly Lion, and Square hovered nearby.

"Were you watching us the whole time?" said Giles.

"I was," confirmed Square.

"Then why didn't you help out during the fight?"

"Had I been a triangle or a line, I would have assisted as much as I could," said the Square. "However, as a Square, my ends are not sufficiently pointed for combat."

"You could have pulled us and the Lion out during the fight."

"I could have," said the Square. "But I have been asked by the triumvirate not to take the Bearers from their world before they have accepted their fate, as they felt any other treatment would be amoral."

"You dragged us out of our worlds without warning."

"Again, I did such because the triumvirate requested it. The inequality has not gone unnoticed, but your lower social position is not unique. In Flatland, the number of sides on an inhabitant's body dictates their class. Each generation will birth an offspring with one additional side. Thus, it is the age of one's family that determines their class. Why shouldn't the Bearers, who contain within them a spirit that has existed for aeons, not hold a higher position than you, whose spirits are mere neophytes of a single life?"

"No. I'm sorry, but I don't think this is a mere issue of elitism. Those types of hierarchies have been abolished long before any of these three were born."

"Except Nibbler and Dumbledore, actually," said Xander.

"Do you believe so?" said Square. "Is it not true, then, that your own society judges one by their wealth, as had all previous generations?"

"No, they don't. Well, they shouldn't. It's frowned upon."

"Yet it is the wealthy who can afford the better luxuries. It is the wealthy that everyone aspires to become. And one's income—and, thus, their wealth and status—increases with age."

"You're twisting things. They wouldn't categorise people based off things like that. I don't think. Would they?"

"No way," said Willow. "I mean, sure, Mr. Peabody was a snob at times, and Nibbler did kinda derail Fry's life without warning, but they weren't bigots. Oh! And Dumbledore's here. Unless Book 6 or 7 are going to have the twist to end all twists, he's never had a bigoted thought in his head."

"Then perhaps they have other reasons. They have not told me of them, at any rate, and I doubt they would tell you."

"We'll see about that," said Giles.

"Yes, you shall!" announced Nibbler as he entered the room. All eyes turned towards the small creature as he scurried across the floor, then stood, looking across his audience.

"How long have you been standing there?" asked Giles.

"Only eight hours. And Square was right. There are a lot of things we cannot tell you. If we did, the Universe itself could be in danger."

"Is anyone else getting a little tired of the dodging game?" said Xander.

"We have told you everything we can."

"Or just everything you're willing to," said Buffy.

Nibbler seemed genuinely hurt by the comment. Despite his manipulative streak and penchant for secrecy, he seemed genuinely upset as he continued to speak. "This is most unfortunate. I told Mr. Peabody that you'd last much longer before you started to question us. It looks like I owe him a Pepsi."

"We're not questioning you," said Angel. "We _know_ the First Evil's after these guys. We just don't like begin kept in the dark."

"Then you're really not going to like what happens next."

Then Nibbler left the room. Soon afterwards, a series of red lights shot across the door, and a heavy metallic wall slammed down inside the frame. Spike ran to the metal wall and tried to move it, but with no results.

"What just happened?" he asked.

"You shouldn't have argued with him," said Square. The triumvirate is secretive for a reason. They've often told me, as they just told you, that asking too many questions could endanger the entire mission."

"We're prisoners," said Giles.

"No more than anyone else in Castle Silverlock," said the Square. "If you would look through that door, you will find the accommodations of a king. But you will not be allowed to visit the rest of the castle."

Then, Square disappeared from the chamber, and soon after brought the Cowardly Lion with him. The party was left to wander into their room to discuss matters further.

"What now?" asked Xander.

"I guess we wait for our next mission," said Buffy.

And no one argued. They weren't sure if they could trust everything the triumvirate said anymore, but Ozma already confirmed the important parts of their story, so they couldn't refuse to find the rest of the Batteries. Their imprisonment—and, despite what Square said, they considered it just that—wasn't worth risking the universe over.


	6. II i

Peter Griffin sat on his couch in front of the TV. Brian walked up beside him.

"What's this?" Brian asked.

"Oh, I decided to start watching _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_. I just wish I knew what episode to start with."

"Well, you should probably start with the first. _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ is basically like a soap opera with reruns."

"Vampires, Brian. The show is about vampires. Geez, I'd have thought you'd know the difference between a rerun and a vampire."

Brian sighed. "Peter, every episode of that show builds off the last one. And, let's face it, you're not very good at getting caught up on a story from the middle. Remember that time you walked in halfway through _The Matrix_?"

*

[Cutaway gag]

Peter sat in a theater, staring at the screen in confusion.

"I don't get it. If this guy's supposed to be the chosen one, and those other guys were looking for him all their lives, shouldn't we have actually _seen_ the scene where they meet him? Talk about sloppy screenwriting."

[/Cutaway gag]

*

"But that was completely different," said Peter. "You don't have to watch the show from the beginning to understand that the red-haired chick becomes a lesbian just a year after reaching legal age."

"Of course not. How silly of me."

-

On the television, a caricature of Buffy walked into a room. Caricatures of Giles, Xander, Willow, Tara, Oz, and Andrew were waiting for her.

"Buffy," said Xander, "we need to talk."

"What is this?" said Buffy. "An intervention?"

"We just don't think you should be sleeping with a vampire," said Willow.

"Oh, is that all that's bothering you?" said Buffy. "Because it's really not a big deal. Okay, so I slept with Dracula a few times. What's the problem?"

"You slept with Who-ula?" said Xander.

"This wasn't about him?" asked Buffy.

"No!"

"Oh! Is this about Mr. Trick? Because…"

"Mr. Trick!?"

"Wait… this isn't about him, either? This isn't about Drusilla, is it? Because it was the only way I could get Darla to…"

"Oh my God!" said Xander.

"Buffy," said Willow, "are there any vampires you _didn__'__t_ sleep with?"

"Sure," said Buffy. "I didn't sleep with Kakistos. Er… you don't count oral, do you?"

-

"I take back what I said," said Brian coldly. "The less you know about the plot, the better."

*

_"Listen, man-cub," said the Bear, and his voice rumbled like thunder on a hot night. "I have taught thee all the Law of the Jungle for all the peoples of the jungle—except the Monkey-Folk who live in the trees. They have no law. They are outcasts. They have no speech of their own, but use the stolen words which they overhear when they listen, and peep, and wait up above in the branches. Their way is not our way. They are without leaders. They have no remembrance. They boast and chatter and pretend that they are a great people about to do great affairs in the jungle, but the falling of a nut turns their minds to laughter and all is forgotten. We of the jungle have no dealings with them. We do not drink where the monkeys drink; we do not go where the monkeys go; we do not hunt where they hunt; we do not die where they die. Hast thou ever heard me speak of the Bandar-log till today?"_

_--_Rudyard Kipling, "Kaa's Hunting" in _The Jungle Book_.

Strife of Brian

"Well, this place looks innocuous enough," said Giles. "Now if only I knew where it was."

"Wait… I know this one," said Xander. "The drawings are very distinctive. If I am not mistaken—and I often am—this is an episode of _Family Guy_.

"What, that show with the talking dog and mad scientist baby?" said Giles. "Terrific."

"Hey, now," said Xander. "Don't diss the _Fam Guy_. I consider Seth MacFarlane one of the under-appreciated greats of the TV industry. Up there with that guy who made _Firefly_."

This promising line of conversation ended abruptly when a sinister-looking man approached the group. He didn't look threatening per say, but he didn't look trustworthy, either. The fact that his blonde hair was obviously a wig proved he had something to hide, and his appearance clearly indicated that he was not drawn by the same hand as the rest of this world.

"Excuse me," he said in a _very_ bad British accent, "but could you tell me where the Griffin family lives?"

"Sorry," said Xander, "but this part of the neighborhood has never been shot, so I can't tell where to go. Besides, I don't know you, but, judging by your art style, you are not from this show, so you were probably put here by the First Evil, which would mean that one of us is gonna have to kill you. Probably not me, but one of us."

"What art style?" the man asked. "I am a real human being, like you, and not a drawing of some sort. Besides, it is rude to form assumptions about people based off their appearance. If I had to make an assumption about you based off _your_ appearance, I would assume you were a barely-literate peon—a peon, by the way, is an unimportant person, relegated to menial work."

"I know what a peon is, thank you," said Xander bitterly.

"I was just trying to demonstrate that I am a good and honorable man," the man said. "A bad man would not help enhance your vocabulary."

"And I'd bet you'd like us to believe that, too," said Spike. "Just like you'd like to believe that no one here has ever read _A Series of Unfortunate Events,_ and that no one here is going to recognize you as Count Olaf."

"Don't be silly," Count Olaf said. "I'm not Count Olaf, I'm famed actor James Marsters, and I have come here to find my long lost dog."

"Right. Five seconds ago, we knew that someone in the Griffin house was the next Bearer because that's where you were going. Now, we know that it's Brian. Bloody brilliant. Wile E Coyote himself couldn't have been a bigger help."

"Stop making false accusations," Count Olaf said. "You're starting to remind me of three very annoying orphans I used to know."

"Well, you'll be happy to know that I won't be reminding you of them for long," said Spike. A second later, he was holding Count Olaf off the ground by the collar of his neck. "See? I'm differentiating myself from them already."

"I do not think I will have much trouble escaping a vampire stupid enough to come out in the sunlight," Olaf said, sneering at Spike.

"Oh God, you're right," he said. "How stupid of me. Why, I'd forget my own head if I wouldn't dust. Any second now, the sun could remember I'm a vampire and burn me up. Better hope I don't forget I'm a good guy and not supposed to eat you, hadn't we?"

The Sun, inexplicably wearing a pair of sunglasses, gazed down on the events with a look of surprise. "Oh, sorry, I didn't know you were vampires. You could have worn a cape or something, you know."

Suddenly, Spike and Angel both went up in smoke. Spike promptly dropped Count Olaf and dove headfirst into some extra's car while Angel grabbed a very large umbrella from the Very Large Umbrella shop that happened to be nearby. Buffy and her companions rushed to check on Spike and Angel, and Count Olaf ran.

Buffy, having made sure that both vampires were alive, glanced sharply in the Sun's general direction.

"Did you have to do that?"

"Do what?" asked the Sun.

"Do what? Fricassee my friends, that's what!"

"Come on, they're vampires. Why were they in the sunlight, anyway?"

"They didn't come here by choice. Square dropped us off here."

"Uh huh. Look, I don't care how uncool you think your driver is, okay? I'm just doing my job."

"Well, thanks to your 'job,' Count Olaf just escaped, and now the universe is in danger."

"Yeah, right. Well, I'm sorry, but I can't lose this job. My girlfriend has been bugging me a lot lately about how I need to be 'more responsible,' and if I lost this gig, I'd never hear the end--"

"What's going on here?" said a booming voice.

"Oh, geez… it's my boss."

Slowly, majestically, the clouds parted, giving way to a beam of light. A figure descended from the heavens, riding the beam as facilely as if he were standing still. He was balding, and looked somewhat wider than usual, yet there was no denying His force of presence. Just seeing Him had filled everyone with conflicting emotions—with fear and hope, humility and courage, anger and love. Despite His full beard and white robe, which had until now seemed a burlesque in any depictions of this majestic power, the man now standing before the heroes left no room for laughter or camp. They acknowledged His presence and identity so wholly, they could not tell how they might ever have imagined Him looking any different, for this was Him, and no other form could fit—could be worthy of—this exalted being. He looked to be many things. He looked wise and powerful, yet kind. He was the Alpha and the Omega, yet He was more. He could be vengeful and He could be jealous, but He was magnanimous as well. He was Love and He was Good. He was Life and He was Everything. And He was clearly pissed.

"What's going on?" asked God. "Are these people bothering you?"

"Oh my God," said Giles.

"Yeah, like I haven't heard that a hundred times," muttered the Lord.

"You're real!?" said Giles.

"Of course I am. Who said I wasn't?"

"I'm sorry. It just seems like the Pool of Life contradicts… well, most of the Bible, for one thing."

"Of course it does. Even the Bible contradicts the Bible. So? Real life contradicts itself all the time."

*

[Cutaway gag]

"Wait, what's going on?" said Giles.

Ozma laughed and shook her head as she unlocked the cell door. "Tell me, if someone showed up and asked you to kill yourself, what would you think?"

"That they're part of a cult," said Giles. "And I certainly wouldn't let them out of their cell and—"

"Shut up," said Angel.

"No, he's right," said Ozma. "And when you showed up, asking the Cowardly Lion to kill himself, and going on about Jesus, what was I supposed to do? If I didn't try to stop you, then the Cowardly Lion would assume there was no danger involved, and then his essence could not be used to recharge the Pool of Life."

"You knew about that?" said Buffy.

"Of course," said Ozma. "Glinda was among those that helped create the Pool of Life, and she told me about your meeting so that I could watch it with my Magic Picture."

"Wait a minute, created the Pool of Life?" said Giles. "But I thought the Pool of Life created the Universe. How could both be true?"

Ozma was silent for several seconds. "Death to the heretic!"

Then the Scooby Gang closed in on Giles, lifted him into the air, and took him off to be burnt at the stake.

[/Cutaway gag]

*

"I assumed the triumvirate had just been lying," said Giles.

"Of course not," said God. "History had just rewritten itself. It's easier to understand if you realize that all of creation exists only inside the stories of other writers. Except for _Gigli_. Still not sure how that world came about."

"I'm sorry, but do you actually expect us to believe that?" said Giles.

"Hey, as long as you believe in Me, I won't have you killed. Ha! Just kidding. Just kidding. Jeez. Now, then. Back to business." Then God turned up to look straight into the Sun. "So, what's the problem here?"

"All I was doing was sitting here, doing my job and frying some vampires, and what happens? This bitch starts yelling at me!"

"Did the Sun just call me a 'bitch?'" asked Buffy.

"I… believe so," said Giles.

"Now, now," said God, "there's no need for names." He then turned to Buffy. "I'm sorry—it's partially my fault. I forgot to tell him to leave the vampires alone."

"You were going to tell him that?" asked Willow.

"Well, duh," said God. "I don't want the Universe destroyed after just 4 billion years! (But if anyone asks, I made it in 4000 BC.) I'll see to it that, as long as you're in this world, the Sun won't hurt you. _Right_?"

The Sun just muttered, "Right," then several barely audible slurs at an unspecified target.

Angel put his umbrella aside while Spike climbed out of the car. Both vampires felt sharp pains flicker through their butts, then the Sun chuckled.

And God glared sharply at the celestial body. "That's it! Your attitude has just earned you a probation for the next week!"

"Oh, come on!" said the Sun. "I was just fooling! You can't do this!"

"I can and I will. Now out!"

"Well, do I at least get paid?"

"Of course you don't get paid! If you did, it wouldn't be a probation, it would be a paid vacation."

"I was just checking!"

"You're not getting paid for staying up there, you know."

"Yeah, I…"

"You may as well go home."

"And what is everyone going to do without me?"

"They'll use a freaking lamp, for Christ's sakes. You think you're the only source of light? Fire's been around for, what, 6000 years?"

"Okay, fine. But I'm telling your son you used his name in vain."

The Sun sank grumpily beneath the horizon, and a shadow enveloped the land.

"That's it!" shouted God. "You're out for _two_ weeks!" He turned back to Buffy. "I'm sorry about that. He's a good star, really, he just tends to get kind of proud because he's so close to the Earth."

"That's okay," said Buffy. "We've all been there. Say, could you do us another favor? It would be a big help."

"Anything."

"Could you stop Count Olaf from doing whatever it is he's doing?"

"No problem," said God. "That bastard will be a pile of salt before…"

Suddenly, a red convertible pulled up on the side of the road. Buddha was driving, Krishna sat in the front, and Vishnu was in the back. All three were wearing sunglasses and beaming widely.

"Hey, God," said Buddha. "We were going to TP old man Dawkins' house. Wanna come?"

"Do I?"

And without a second thought, God jumped into the back seat, and the car drove off.

"Well, that should just about offend everyone," said Giles, watching the deity-filled vehicle disappear for a night of vandalism.

"Xander is gone," commented Illyria.

"Pardon me?" asked Giles.

"He ran after Count Olaf while the rest of you were worrying about the vampires. I should have followed him, but I assumed that he would be able to stop the large-nosed man."

"Well, obviously he didn't," said Spike. "And unless he's just popped into Cleveland's Deli for a bite, and forgot to tell us, I'm gonna bet that Buffy's going to waste precious time trying to save his ass."

Buffy glared at Spike, but didn't answer him.

"I hope he is not hurt," said Illyria. "I am becoming very fond of him, and would like a chance to see him without his clothes on."

"Don't worry," said Buffy. "I'm sure Xander… what is it with him and demons, anyway? I'm sure Xander will be fine. If this Olaf clown is the worst we'll have to deal with in this world, we'll all be able to see Xander without his clothes by the end of the day."

So the group divided into two teams; Buffy and her gang went off to find Xander and/or Olaf while Angel and his gang searched for the Griffin residence.

*

"So, what's the deal with this Olaf Character?" asked Angel.

"A joke," said Spike. "Not too bright, and completely powerless. No way the First Evil is relying on him for anything more than his ability to fool complete dumbasses."

"So we should be on the look out for more muscle?"

"Of course."

*

"You don't really believe that part about us not having a problem, do you?" said Giles.

"Not for one second," said Buffy. "If Count Olaf is here, he must have some damn good magic backing him up. I only hope he's smart enough to use Xander as a hostage. Otherwise, we won't have anyone to rescue."

*

Peter barged into the living room.

"Brian, you're not going to believe what I'm about to tell you!"

Brian closed his copy of _Moby Dick_ on the bookmark. "What?"

"I just met George Washington!"

"Peter, that's impossible. Washington's been dead since 1799."

Peter laughed. "I told ya you wouldn't believe what I was about to tell you."

Brian just had time to roll his eyes and pick his book back up when there was a loud knock at the door. When Peter opened it, he found a large-nosed man, unibrow hidden behind a blonde wig, standing on the other side.

"Hello," the large-nosed blonde man said. "My name is James Marsters. I was hoping you could help me."

"Gee, I'd love to," said Peter, "but I'm not very good at helping people. Take the time I tried to help Ben-Hur."

*

[Cutaway gag]

Ben-Hur was on the point of collapsing. A small boy held out a canteen of water, but was promptly stopped by the soldiers.

"No water for him."

But the soldier didn't hesitate to drink the water himself, leaving Ben-Hur to grab feebly at the drops dripping from his mouth. But even that was too much; the soldier shoved Ben-Hur aside, bringing the slave's thirst to unimaginable levels of desperation. He collapsed, and his moans for help fell on deaf ears. Suddenly, he felt cool water being splashed on his neck and forehead. He gratefully lifted the water towards his lips while looking for the face of his savior.

"Blargh!" he exclaimed as he spat the liquid out. "What is that? Is it… urine?"

"Oh, sorry," said Peter. "I must have given you he wrong bottle. Look, I'm sorry, but it's a long trip through the desert, and I am _not_ going to go in a sand dune like some kind of animal."

"Well, where's the drinking water, then?"

"I poured it out in that outhouse over there! Come on! What kind of idiot caries a canteen of pee around with him?"

[/Cutaway gag]

*

"Why did you tell me that?" asked the man.

"I can't remember," sad Peter. "My memory's horrible. Maybe we should ask that guy I just told the Ben-Hur story to."

"Look," said the guy claiming to be James Marsters. "This is a very simple request. So simple even a dolt like you can help. All I want you to do is tell me where this dog is."

The man held up a picture. The dog in the photo was a large, snow-white specimen with a large black nose on the end of his dignified face, a tight red collar around his neck, and a martini.

"Oh, sorry, but I'm even worse at finding animals. But I bet Brian could help! Hey, Brian! Do you think you could find this man's dog?"

Brian looked over from behind the couch.

"That _is_ my dog, you stupid man!" shouted the man.

"Huh? Where?" Peter turned towards the couch. "No, no. That's the sofa."

"Not the sofa, you moron, the animal sitting on the sofa, reading a boring book about a boring whale. _That_ is my dog!"

Brain sighed. "God, and I thought Peter… wait a minute, since when was I _your_ dog?"

"Since you were born," said the man. "Don't you remember? You were raised by me in my parents' house, until you ran away from home."

"Wow, Brian!" exclaimed Peter. "You never told me you belonged _to Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ and _Angel__'__s_ Spike!"

"Well, I would have," responded Brian, "except I _never_ lived with James Marsters! And this man isn't even the real Marster's—he's just some lunatic that dresses up as a TV character, then goes around impersonating the actor. I've seen the real James Marsters performing _Waiting for Godot_, and he doesn't even _have_ a British accent."

"Of course I do," said the man. "Can't you hear it right now?"

"Eh, he's got a point," said Peter.

"Come on, this is ridiculous," said Brian. "He's just making this up because… I don't know, because he's an idiot."

"Oh, yeah," said Peter. "Like that time I made up a funny story because I was an idiot."

*

[Cutaway gag]

Peter looked up from a newspaper.

"Hey, Lois, remember that time some weirdo showed up at our house and pretended to be Brian's owner?"

"Peter, what are you talking about?"

"Come on. A famous actor came to our house, claiming to be Brian's owner? But it turned out it was all part of a plan to destroy the Universe?"

Lois let out a loud laugh. "Oh, Peter, you always could come up with such funny stories."

[/Cutaway gag]

*

"Boy. How do I come up with that stuff?"

"Get out of my way, you buffoon," said the man, pushing his way past Peter. "That is my dog, and I shall care for it with the love I would give a child."

"Get lost!" said Brian. "I'm not your dog."

"If you let me take care of this dog," said the man, "then I shall see to it that it is disciplined so thoroughly, it shall never lie again."

"_It?_" said Brian indignantly.

"Gee, I'm sorry," said Peter, "but I can't. Brian's my best friend. But he's more than that. He's like my mentor, my sidekick, my hero, and my wise but slightly detached advise-giving neighbor, like Wilson from _Home Improvement_, all rolled into one. But he's more than all that, too. He's my dog. And I can't give my dog to a complete stranger again."

"How touching," said the man. "But we'll see how far these sentimentalities will get you in court."

"So now you're suing us?" said Brian. "Ha! Well, you'd better have a good lawyer, because you don't have a leg to stand on."

"Don't worry," said the man. "I'm sure Wolfram and Hart will be enough for me to win this case."

Peter bit his lower lip. "Eh, Brian, you probably shouldn't have warned him to get a good lawyer."

*

"There it is," said Spike, pointing to a two-layered beige house. "The mutt should be in there."

Count Olaf emerged, alone, from the door, smiling to himself in a way that didn't even try to seem friendly. Angel straightened his jacket, then promptly grabbed the man by his coat collars and pressed him against the wall.

"I never thought I'd say this," said Angel, "but where's Xander?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Count Olaf said. "I just came here to get my dog. Now if you don't let me go, I might be forced to sue you for assault, and I don't think you'd want that."

One of the windows slid open and Brian stuck his face out.

"I heard a bang, so I decided to check and make sure you aren't okay. Hey? Where the hell'd the sun go?"

"Oh, I'm fine," Count Olaf said, and ignored the question about the sun. "And I think my lawyers will help me file an official lawsuit against you," he added to Angel.

"I'm not scared of your lawyers," said Angel. "Whoever they are."

"If you want to know that," Count Olaf said, "you merely need to look onto the roof."

"Why?" Angel looked up, but he could only see the wall. "What's on the roof."

"Uh… his lawyers," said Gunn. "I think."

And Angel still couldn't see anything, but he could hear the lawyers speaking. Whatever they were saying, he wasn't sure of the significance, but it scared him. It sounded like a chant or a magical spell, but it could have just as easily been little more than a long-winded introduction. Either way, it seemed well-planned, and unless this was something the lawyers wrote ahead of time then went around rehearsing, it could only be taken as a sign that these people were very good at thinking on their feet. And if they were insane enough to rehearse something like this, they were raving lunatics, and would no doubt excel at debating in a world full of raving lunatics. Either way, it made him nervous to hear the nightmarish rhyme:

_Prepare for trouble, because we__'__ve come so far._

_And make it double, we__'__ve even passed the bar._

_To protect the world by abjuration!_

_To unite all peoples out on probation!_

_To denounce the evils of justice for all!_

_To get all our clients a pardon call!_

_Jessie!_

_James!_

_Wolfram and Hart blasts off at the speed of light!_

_Surrender now, or come to court tonight!_

_Meowth! Dat__'__s right!_

_Wobbuffet!_

Spike let out a loud belly laugh. "I hope that you realize that your lawyers are Team Rocket, and Team Rocket are idiots."

"Hey!" complained Meowth. "I resemble dat remark!"

"Most of the people in this town are idiots," said Angel.

"Good point," said Spike. "In that case, I congratulate you on your choice of attorney. I just hope that you don't think your lawyers are going to scare us out of breaking your neck before you get anywhere near the courtroom."

"I don't see why they would," Count Olaf said. He then grabbed Angel's arm and wrenched it back, almost tearing the limb from the socket. While Angel screamed, Count Olaf kicked him in the ribcage and launched the older vampire into Spike. "Like the Baudelaires, you heroes always are foolishly brave in the face of a clearly superior opponent."

*

-

*

Family Guy was created by Seth MacFarlane, and is owned by 20th Century Fox, Film Roman Productions, and Fuzzy Door Productions.

Count Olaf and _A Series of Unfortunate Events_ was created by Daniel Handler under the pseudonym Lemony Snicket and are currently owned by HarperCollins Children's Books.

Ben-Hur is owned by Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer.

Team Rocket and all _Pokémon_ characters are owned by Nintendo, Shogakukan, and the Pokémon Company.


	7. II ii

It's a Bad, Bad, Bad, Bad World.

With surprising silence, the Wolfram and Hart lawyers landed feet-first on the ground. The woman had a solid mass of red hair sticking out behind her, whereas the smooth-faced man sported a dome of nearly shoulder-length blue hair. Accompanying them was a cat with very large, spike-like whiskers on his face and a coin embedded in his forehead. The two humans were wearing drab gray suits with equally drab dark-gray ties, differing only in the female's high heels and short skirt. The cat wore only a jewel-encrusted collar.

"Well, well," said Jessie. "It looks like Lilah was right when she told us we'd get to meet some interesting people. Mr. Marsters is certainly a step above the norm."

"I'd say he's a whole flight above the rest of us," said James.

"I'm just glad dat we aren't da ones falling down da stairs dis time," said Meowth.

"Wobbuffet!" shouted Wobbuffet, a vaguely condom-shaped blue creature with a pitch-black two-eyed tail.

With great effort, Angel pulled himself back to his feet and led his companions towards Count Olaf. The lawyers intercepted, and Wobbuffet promptly stepped in front of the lawyers.

"Wob, wob," it said, holding an arm-like appendage to its forehead.

"Get out of my way," said Spike, "or I'll give you something to wob about."

Instead, Wobbuffet stood defiantly still, continuing to shout its name. Spike punched at the creature's face, but before he connected, a strange glow began to resonate from the blue body. Spike felt like he'd been kicked in the forehead by a Slayer, and was thrown backwards with such force he knocked over Gunn and a mailbox.

"I can't believe it!" said James. "We're actually winning!"

"Vampires are so much easier to handle than Pikachus," said Jessie.

"You are pathetic," said Illyria, as she got back to her feet. "You think that because you've blocked one arrow, and returned a second, you have already won the war. You are like worms who live in the dirt and mud, and when you surface and find a puddle, you think it's the ocean. You are so entranced by your own luck, you fail to notice the foot descending on your fleshy, hollow bodies."

The Wolfram and Hart lawyers promptly stopped dancing and glared at Illyria, each posing like a horribly under-trained boxer.

"What did you say about my body?" said Jessie.

"If you're so tough, why don't you take a swing at Wobbuffet?" shouted James.

"Wobbuffet?" Illyria walked over to the blue creature, then circled and examined it curiously, as if she were checking the tires on a car. "You mean this thing?"

"Wobbuffet!" confirmed Wobbuffet.

"Fine," said Illyria. She hefted the Pokémon over her head, holding its wrist with one hand and its foot with the other. Wobbuffet again began to glow, but Illyria threw it, glow and all, into the lawyers. The resulting explosion threw all four of them into the sky and out of sight.

Illyria continued towards Count Olaf and punched him hard in the face, but he budged only slightly. Olaf tried to hit her back, but she ducked under his arm and hit him in the ribcage. The fight continued for several minutes like this, but Olaf proved that he could take hits as well as a wall and land them slightly more often. When he finally managed to get Illyria in the mouth, which took seven minutes, she was knocked on her back instantly. As she lay across the grass, her jaw throbbing with pain, she decided not to get back up. For once, she felt violence would not be the solution.

"Don't bother fighting," Count Olaf said, looking down at her. "I am so far above you all, both mentally and physically, that you are like children to me." And with that, the slimy man walked off so casually, it was infuriating.

Angel, Spike, and Illyria followed him, but quietly, and from a distance. They were willing to concede his point about their physical inferiority, but none of them would believe for one minute that Count Olaf was smarter than they were.

*

The entire Griffin family had already gathered by the time Gunn stepped into the living room.

"This is terrible," said Lois. "Brian, are you sure you've never belonged to Marsters?"

"Never," he said. "I told you, you're the first family I ever lived with."

"You don't have to lie, you know, Brian," said Peter. "Lots of people have had roommates they'd rather keep secret. Even me."

*

[Cutaway gag]

"Wait… how did you get Mr. Roper to let me stay here?" asked Peter.

"We… told him you're gay," said Janet.

"You what?"

"It was the only way!" said Chrissy.

"So, let me get this straight," said Peter. "I live with two chicks. But the landlord thinks I'm gay, so I can't 'do' either of you."

"But Peter…"

"No way, forget it," said Peter. "First, I let you tell people I'm gay. Next, I'm letting other gay guys have sex with me, just to continue the ruse. Then, before I know it, I'll be involved in all sorts of gay orgies, then I'll actually become gay, and fall in love, and I'll want to move in with another gay guy, but because the landlord there won't want his tenants going at it all the time, I'll have to pretend I'm straight, and then I'll end up having sex with women, but I won't be able to enjoy it, because I'd be gay. Well, I'm not going through all that. If you need me, I'll be living in one of those cardboard boxes TVs come in."

Then, as the audience broke into applause, Peter marched out of the room and slammed the door, leaving his roommates befuddled.

"Wow," said Janet. "Can you believe that pervert?"

"I know!" said Chrissy. "Thinking two lesbians would sleep with him."

At which point they began making out.

[/Cutaway gag]

*

"Excuse me?" said Gunn. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but…"

The whole family immediately turned to Gunn, who was so used to seeing this interior on TV, he had forgotten that he wasn't supposed to just walk into the interior without knocking first.

"Oh my God!" exclaimed Lois. "A burglar!"

Peter rolled his eyes. "Lois, just because he's black doesn't mean he's a burglar."

"But he barged into our house! He didn't even knock first!"

"So? You do that all the time."

"Peter—"

"It's okay," said Gunn. "I'm here to help save your dog."

"So you're not a thief?" said Chris.

"Depends on your definition of thief," said Gunn. "I'm a lawyer."

He then explained who he was and why he was in their world—not to mention their living room. Under other circumstances, he'd try to avoid mentioning the more Narnian aspects of his visit, but since this world was very surreal to begin with, why bother? He figured nothing he could say could possibly make them less likely to believe him.

"And why should I trust you?" Brian asked anyway. "For all I know, you're trying to sacrifice me to your dark gods so that your show will get put back on the air."

"That doesn't even make any sense," said Gunn. "Why would we care if our show is canceled in another dimension? It's not like whoever made our show sends us money through a portal. By the way, how long did the show last?"

"Five seasons," said Peter.

"Five whole seasons, huh?" said Gunn. "Well, that's pretty good for a spin off. I don't suppose the show was named after me, was it?"

"Come on," said Peter. "Who'd want to see a show with a name like _Gunn_? That's just silly. The show is called _Angel_."

"There was also an earlier Buffy movie," said Stewie, "but… well, if I were you, I wouldn't exactly go out of my way to track it down. They actually cast Paul Reubens as a vampire."

"Pee-wee Herman!?" exclaimed Gunn. "Wow. That's… but we don't have time to discuss that now."

"Why not?" said Brian. "It's not like I'm going to agree if you argue with me long enough. Why would anyone trust you to save the world? Your show can't even keep its own protagonists in line. How do I know that Angel isn't going to lock me in a room full of vampires after having Willow magically lobotomize me?"

"Let me get this straight," said Gunn. "You're going to let the entire Universe die to spite whoever created our show?"

"No, because the world isn't dying!" retorted Brian. "Think about it. If what you are saying is true, and there are millions upon billions of worlds out there with millions of billions of villains trying to destroy them, why haven't they _all_ been destroyed yet? How long could the heroes really keep the ball from getting in the net? And for that matter, why were _you_ chosen as the sole representative of good? Why isn't Superman or Luke Skywalker or someone like that taking care of this?"

"None of the bad guys _knew_ how to take all of them out at once. And as for that other question, we had to come here because a Slayer is the only being in existence that can sense who holds the Batteries."

"How convenient," said Brian.

"Okay, so it sounds like a bad comic book plot. Just because I can't explain something doesn't mean it isn't true."

"Do you even listen to yourself? Do you realize how dumb your story sounds? And, lets face it, Joss Whedon never avoided turning his own heroes into borderline monsters just to make things seem 'darker and edgier.' Even if you think you're telling the truth, who's to say you're not being manipulated by the First Evil? Well, forget it. I'm not dying so the degenerates from a show like _Buffy_ can look deeper."

"Firstly, I am from the spin-off, not _Buffy_. Secondly, I can't believe my morals—or even Angel's morals—are being criticized by someone that would run over Dean Koontz because he isn't Stephen King. Thirdly… damnit, you _used_ to be my second-favorite character in this show! You know what? The only consolation I have from this whole situation is the knowledge that, if the Universe does go, you're going with it."

"Oh, gee," said Peter, "this is going to make it really awkward when I hire him as our lawyer."

"You're what?" shouted Brian.

"Well, we need a lawyer," said Peter, "and he seems as qualified as anyone. Besides, if we hire a black lawyer, we'll have affirmative action on our side."

Gunn simply shook his head at what his career had come to. "I'm glad I didn't actually waste all those years in law school just for this."

*

Coming to, Xander found himself hung upside-down in a decrepit mansion-sized shack. Cranking his head slightly to the side, he saw Count Olaf sitting on a fancy ottoman, tapping his dirty fingers on a fancy coffee table.

"Well, you haven't killed me yet," said Xander. "That's good news."

"Don't be too sure," Count Olaf said. "You are no good to me dead whereas, alive, you could make for a useful bargaining chip, if I need one against the other children."

"Children?"

"You are children, compared to me," he responded. "I am both more intelligent and stronger than any of them."

"Right. No offense, but just because you beat me up is no reason to think you could hurt Buffy. Or Spike and Angel. Gunn seemed pretty tough, too. Hell, I'm surprised you beat me."

"Of course you are. When you tried to chase after me, you were unaware of the very high rank I hold in the First's eyes."

"Ah," said Xander, nodding. "Caleb the second. Well, at least I know you won't hold the position long. When the first Caleb retired, he was only half the man he'd been when he started."

"Well, in the unlikely event that I do die, there is a worthy successor in this very room."

Xander looked around, and was quite certain that there was no place for anyone to hide. In fact, the room seemed so open and unobtrusive, he suspected that the Invisible Man would have trouble hiding there.

"Excuse me?"

"I've seen a few episodes of your show," Count Olaf said, "and I've noticed you and I have a great deal in common."

"You mean the fact that I used to have two eyes, like you?"

"You don't like to read, for one thing," Count Olaf said. "Or, at least, this has been implied."

"Right," said Xander. "Well, that isn't exactly uncommon in our time."

"Of course not," Count Olaf said. "There are a lot of people very much like me, these days."

"But they're not murderers."

"No, but whereas I shun reading because I am already much smarter than any of the writers are, most other people do so because they are lazy and stupid, and both of these are a great boon to murderers. After all, evil can triumph only when good men do nothing."

"You're absolutely right. I'm lazy, and I'm apathetic. I'm so lazy and apathetic, I didn't even bother moving when a priest picked me up and gouged out my eye for the heinous crime of fighting against evil. In fact, my only regret is that, if I had been too lazy to go in there and try to fight the good fight, I might still have two eyes with which to watch TV and ignore the vamps and demons."

"Sure, you feel you're helping the world, but well-meaning stupidity can also be a great boon to evil. My ex-girlfriend's brother once had to watch a city burn down because he couldn't remember the name of the newspaper featured heavily in Anthony Trollope's novel, _The Warden_."

"You made that up."

"Is that what you think?"

"I also think you're an idiot."

Just then, a ripple seemed to spread through a wall, lying perpendicular to reality itself. A jester-like being clad in bright purple and yellow, and whose face was split evenly between a black and white mask, emerged from a watery reality, surrounded by several large skeletons and an even larger suit of rusty orange armor.

"It's about time you arrived, Dimentio," Count Olaf said. "I was getting very tired of having to watch this idiot myself." Count Olaf walked across the room, eyeing the monsters up carefully. "I know that I could defeat the Slayer and the vampires without any help, of course, but how do I know that these things will be able to do the same?"

"Don't worry about them," said Dimentio. "These guys have clashed against greater titans than the Slayer and her sidekicks. Even if they somehow destroy the Iron Knuckle, they won't be able to stop the Stalfos without explosives, which I doubt they'll bring to the fight if you don't say something stupid and give the surprise away."

"Of course I won't say anything stupid," Count Olaf said. "Only stupid people and children say stupid things—not intelligent adults."

Dimentio responded by laughing. "Sure, Olaf. I guess you're safe, then, aren't you?"

"I hope you are not being ironic," Count Olaf said. "Besides, I seem to recall hearing that you were defeated by a mere plumber. The Baudelaires may be children, but they are smarter than a plumber."

"Now, now, Olaf, there's no reason to get so mad," said Dimentio. "I was just teasing. I'm actually starting to like you. You just asked me to bring a few guards. The First Evil wanted me to drop an entire _city_ in Oz."

And Count Olaf almost seemed scared. He backed off several feet from Dimentio, as if expecting a lightning bolt to answer the complaint. "Are you sure it's a good idea to talk about the First like that?"

"He can't do anything," said Dimentio. "He's busy trying to corrupt some soldier in another dimension, and he couldn't come here without me. Heck, if I hadn't found him, he never even would have escaped the Buffyverse. Of course, if I have reason to believe that you're going to tell him…"

"I wouldn't want to," Count Olaf said. "I don't like the First Evil, either. I just want the Baudelaire fortune, which he has already promised to me if I help him here. Once I get that, I plan to return to my own world. After that, you can do as you wish."

"Glad to hear it," said Dimentio. "But I'm afraid I must now depart. I've found another dimension with a pretty potent source of power in it, so I won't need to let the First think he's 'leading' us for much longer. Ciao!" And Dimentio sunk into the dimensional wall, as if submerging himself in very thick water.

*

-

*

Three's Company is owned by The NRW Company and DLT Entertainment.

Dimentio and _Paper Mario are_ owned by Nintendo and Intelligent Systems.

_The Legend of Zelda_, and all related characters, were created by Shigeru Miyamoto, and are also owned by Nintendo.


	8. II iii

Trial by Liar

"There he is." Willow pointed as Count Olaf emerged from the decrepit door. "He must be going to the trial."

"I hope that shack's where he left Xander," said Buffy. "It would be a shame if Angel followed him all the way to his beer cooler."

"From what Angel said, Count Olaf doesn't think very highly of us," said Giles. "If we're lucky, he might not have thought guards necessary."

"We're not lucky. There's no telling what kind of backup the First Evil gave him, so everyone should keep their eyes open."

Buffy kicked the door open. Xander, still looking terrified, sat at the far side of the room.

"Ah, crap," said Buffy. "There's a trap, isn't there?"

Buffy stepped further into the room. She could hear something—something big—swinging a weapon at her from the corner, apparently under the delusion that it was going to surprise her. She rolled out of the way, and the blade smashed through the wooden floor less than a foot from her arm. Then she looked up at her attacker. A fifteen-feet-tall-or-more suit of horned golden armor was once again raising its ax to strike. Her first reaction was that a monster like this didn't need surprise attacks.

"What's that?" asked Giles, clutching his crossbow.

"It's called an Iron Knuckle," said Xander. "And the skeletons are called Stalfos. Both are monsters from the _Legend of Zelda_."

"There are skeletons, too?" Buffy looked past the Iron Knuckle to the skeletal remains lying around the room. The computer-generated bones were hardly inconspicuous before. Now, they were beginning to shake and combine into swordsmen.

"Well, can you give me any advice?" she asked.

"Hit the big guy as hard as you can, and hope God's paying attention" said Xander. "The skeletons will keep coming back if you can't blow them up, so I suggest you run from them."

"Do I really have to fight the big guy?" she asked. The Iron Knuckle swung the ax, and missed, getting it stuck in the floor.

"He has the key," said Xander. "And since I somehow doubt you're going to leave me here…"

The Iron Knuckle pulled its weapon back out and swung again at Buffy.

"Not that I wouldn't understand if you did," added Xander.

Buffy lifted a Stalfos over her head and threw it into the knight's face. The skeleton smashed apart, its bones scattering across the ground over a ten-foot radius, but the Iron Knuckle barely flinched.

"I mean, I know I should probably tell you to save yourself, but you wouldn't listen."

Buffy ducked a Stalfos's sword, then kicked its shinbones out. "I'm sorry," she said to Xander, "did you say something?"

*

By the time the Griffin Family entered the courtroom, most of the town had already arrived. It seemed everyone from the Greased-Up Deaf Guy to the Black Knight to the Giant Chicken had shown up to watch the trial. Most of them were talking amongst themselves, paying relatively little attention as the family entered.

"I can't believe we could lose Brian at this trial," said Lois. "This is so nerve-wracking."

"I know," said Peter. "It's like the time my ancestor, Galileo Griffin, was tried by the Inquisition."

*

[Cutaway gag]

"Mr. Griffin, you have been found guilty of heresy. Before your execution, would you like to say any last words?"

"Yes, your honor. You may scoff at me now, but you won't remain in your ignorance forever. One of these days, scientists will prove that the Earth revolves around the sun."

"Even so, that's no excuse for burning down the Vatican Palace. Take him away!"

[/Cutaway gag]

*

"Don't worry," said Gunn. "We're not letting Count Olaf get away with your dog, even if he wins the case. Still, it would be nice to have the law on _our_ side when the fight breaks out."

Gunn and Brian sat at the defendant's table while the rest of the family sat next to Angel on the bench.

Peter turned to him. "Excuse me, er, Mister Angel?"

"No mister," he responded. "Just Angel."

"Oh, I get it. Like Cher."

"No, not like… never mind. What did you want?"

"Oh, nothing important. It's just… remember when you lost your soul because you porked Sarah Michelle Geller?"

"Are you going somewhere with this?"

"Well, I was just wondering… would _any_ type of sex or sex-like activity do that?"

Angel scowled. "No. It's not sex that takes my soul, it's perfect happiness. So if you were going to ask whether masturbation…"

"Hey! Woah, there. I never said anything about that."

"Well, you were going to. I've seen your show."

"No, I wasn't. God, you must be _such_ a pervert to ask something like that. No wonder you slept with all those teenagers in _These Girls_."

"Okay, then. What were you going to ask?"

"Well, if you must know, I wanted to ask if you'd lose your soul after sodomizing a horse. But if you're going to get all weird, forget it."

Angel leaned forward. "Think you can get this done quickly, Gunn?"

"I'll try," said Gunn. "But I'm not sure the other guys are fans of brevity."

The Wolfram and Hart lawyers were mumbling something to each other and their client, though it was impossible to pick up any of it, at least until Jessie suddenly told James, at well above one's normal speaking voice, that she doesn't care much for their integrity as lawyers, that he doesn't either, and that they will steal the dog if necessary. James went on to tell her something else—possibly the same thing Gunn said about getting the law's co-operation—and Jessie slumped back in her chair, arms crossed.

Soon, the trial began. The judge started by asking "Mr. Marsters" to present his case. He "took the stand" and began to recite his story:

"I've known this dog my entire life. My parents bought him before I was even born, then, when I came into this earth, he became my first and greatest companion. I was not popular among the other children while I was growing up, as my great intelligence turned them off, so this dog was the only friend I had."

"What a load of crap," interrupted Brian, and was met by rude glares from the jury.

So Count Olaf continued: "I always loved my dog. Then, while I was at school one rainy day, my parents left the front door open, and my dog ran away from home. It was one of the most heartbreaking moments of my young life. If I don't get my dog back now, I might be forced to kill myself."

The story, despite its obviously liberal use of poetic license, deeply touched the jury and others present at the court, who were all crying even more than Olaf would have been were he a better actor.

"What a tragic story!" cried Jessie.

"That's so sad!' added James.

Gunn, unflinching, strode across the courtroom. Somehow, he couldn't shake the feeling that everyone resented him and his refusal to show more sympathy for this poor liar.

"Excuse me, Mr. Marsters, but if you aren't 18 yet, shouldn't your parents or guardians be here?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Olaf said. "My parents are dead, and I myself am an adult. I have been for quite some time."

"Really?" said Gunn. "That's funny, then, because, where I come from, dogs only live to be about 15. If your parents got Brian before you were born, then you cannot possibly be older than that. And a 15-year-old is not legally an adult."

Count Olaf raised his eyebrow, then lowered his brow in anger. "I hope you aren't calling me a liar."

"Yes, I am." said Gunn. "I've dealt with enough undead to know that _that_ dog is alive. You, on the other hand, look like you must have already been in your twenties, at the very least, when that dog was born."

And, again, Count Olaf glared at Gunn, probably trying not to think about which limb he'd most like to tear off. Nevertheless, he showed restraint—or, at least, physical restraint. "I find it appalling—though not entirely unexpected, from those of your profession—to try and use ridiculous loopholes and a militant devotion to pure logic in an attempt to destroy the emotional well-being of those that happen to find themselves opposing you in the courtroom."

The members of the jury began to mumble angrily amongst themselves, and Gunn somehow couldn't bring himself to believe that they were talking about Olaf's circular logic.

"For crying out loud, would you just shoot him already!" shouted Brian.

"You see?" asked Count Olaf, facing the jury. "Even if I am not the animal's proper owner, could I possibly be worse than a man who would lead such a peaceful breed of dog to such barbaric threats? Why, imagine what this man must do to the poor animal!"

"Your honor, I object," said Gunn. "The fact that Brian displays a temper in times of stress does not mean that he was badly taken care of."

"There you go again, dragging cold logic into your argument," complained Count Olaf. "And yet, I doubt you'd try to use such logic when it wasn't to your personal advantage. Tell me, if I were being accused of stealing candy from a baby, would I get off on the grounds that the child lacked the cognitive functions to appreciate the candy and, thus, that my behavior served only to save the child from a future of cavities and obesity?"

"I'm sure you'd try to," responded Gunn.

"And now the plaintiff resorts to ad hominems," Olaf said, "which is a word for an argument that attacks the opponent personally, but doesn't address his argument. I would expect better from a lawyer than to let his emotions get the better of him."

"This isn't going anywhere," said Gunn. "And by the way, I'm representing the defendant, not the plaintiff."

Olaf thanked Gunn sharply.

Next, James approached the witness.

"Now tell me, Mr. Marsters, is the dog that ran away from your home in this courtroom today?"

"Yes, it is."

"Could you point him out to us?"

Count Olaf raised a finger and pointed it directly at Brian.

"Let the record show that the plaintiff identified Brian Griffin as his missing dog."

James then walked to the other side of the stand and leaned nonchalantly against it. Apparently, he had complete confidence in his success with the case.

"Mr. Marsters," he said, "Why do you think that Brian ran away from home?"

"Because animals are too stupid to know any better."

James then did something that could perhaps best be described as a silent scream. His eyes shot open in horror, and his jaw dropped as far from the nose as it could. Jessie and Meowth had similar reactions at first, though Jessie quickly decided that it would be more productive to muffle Count Olaf's head against his judge's stand.

"He's just kidding, of course," said Jessie, smiling broadly and shoving Count Olaf's head harder into the wood.

"Of course," said James, also smiling, as Jessie released her gasping client. "What he meant to say is that his _parents_ were too stupid to care for the animal properly, and so the poor creature ran off to find the small child that cared for him in an otherwise uncaring world."

"Of course that's what I meant," Count Olaf said. "I know that dogs can be very smart. Why, my dog was one of the smartest I've ever known. It learned to roll over in less than a week! Of course, without my careful training, no animal could have learned so much in so short a period."

"Thank you," said James. "I rest my case. Next, I call to the stand the defendant: Peter Griffin."

The fat man approached the stand, and Jessie rose to question him. (It was possible the lawyers were intentionally sending the scarier one to question their opposition, but Gunn wasn't sure he wanted to put that much faith in their intelligence.)

"Peter Griffin," said Jessie, "when did you first meet Brian?"

"He approached me on the highway to squeegee my car window, and I invited him to live with us," was the response. "And believe me, it worked out much better with him than with that knife-wielding hobo."

"So you admit that you didn't buy him from a pet store?" she said.

Peter stared at Jessie cynically. "Pet stores don't sell hobos. Sheesh, I thought lawyers were supposed to be smart."

"Are you implying that _I__'__m_ not?" yelled Jessie, a vein growing distractingly visible on her forehead.

"Calm down, Jess!' shouted James from the stand.

"If ya blow yer top, our careers will sink to da bottom!" shouted Meowth.

Jessie glanced quickly at James and Meowth, then quickly calmed herself and continued her interrogation.

"So tell me, Mr. Griffin. Why didn't you try to find out if the dog had an owner?"

"Well, I assumed he would have told me," said Peter.

"So let me get this straight. You find a dog and take it in, assuming that, if it ran away from home, it would tell you?"

"Gee, now that you mention it, that was kind of dumb."

"Peter!" exclaimed Brian.

"Thank you," said Jessie, smiling. "The defendant may now question the witness."

So Gunn approached the defendant.

"Mr. Griffin. What is Brian's favorite book?"

"Well, how would I know?" asked Peter. "I stopped paying attention to what he reads when I realized that nothing on his bookshelf has boobs or threesomes in them. Well, some of them might have, but they're usually hidden by a lot of big, confusing words."

"Your honor, I object," Count Olaf said. "Brian's taste in literature is completely irrelevant to the case at hand. Besides, if he can't even remember what books his dog likes, he is clearly an unfit guardian. I have seen Brian only once in the last decade, yet even I know that he was reading _Moby Dick_ when I came to his house."

"_Moby Dick_?" said Gunn. "That's a pretty difficult book. If Mr. Griffin can get his dog to read great Literature like that, and you could only get it to roll-over, then… well, I rest my case, your honor."

The judge stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Yes, you make a good point, Mr. Gunn. This case will not be as to decide as I had thought. I'm going to call a ten-minute recess, during which time the jury may try to gather their thoughts. Oh, and Mr. Marsters, if you want to win this case, I suggest you get your lawyers to give me a bigger bride." And the judge slammed his gavel.

*

Meowth made a point of following Brian during the short recess.

"I still can't believe those jerks at Wolfram and Hart wouldn't give me one of those fancy lawyer upgrades," grumbled the cat to himself. "Just because I'm a cat, and not a human. Well, if I can convince dis dog to come wit us, den maybe dey'd realize opposable thumbs ain't everything."

Meowth noticed Brian walk into a bar—why the courthouse had a bar, he couldn't say.

"Hello, dere," said Meowth, sitting on the stool next to him.

"Get lost," said Brian.

"Dere's no need to be rude," said Meowth angrily. "It's not our fault dat Mr. Marsters went to _our_ law firm to regain ownership of you."

Brian drank some of his martini, then lowered his head. "You're right. For all you know, that man's telling the truth, and I'm the one lying."

"I don't think your lyin'," said Meowth, trying to sound comforting.

And failing.

"Then why the hell are you helping him?"

"I'm not," said Meowth. "In case you haven't noticed, it's those two humans dat are doin' all da legal footwork. But I think I can help _you_."

"I'm listening."

Meowth scooted closer to Brian. "Come wit us!"

"Okay, I'm done listening." Brian turned away from Meowth.

"Don't be stupid!" said Meowth. "If Count Olaf gets his mitts on you, you'll be killed. If you join us, we'll be able to hide you. We have some experience escaping the law, you know."

"Really. And what's in it for you?"

"Why, da satisfaction of knowing I've helped a fellow creature in need!" responded Meowth happily. Brian stared at him blankly for several seconds, then turned away again. "Okay, okay! If you must know, I want ya to join our group because we could use a smart guy like you to help us steal da twerp's Pikachu."

"I'm not a thief," said Brian. "And I'm certainly not going to live in an entire world full of Pokémon."

Meowth glared at Brian. "And do you have somethin' against Pokémon?"

"It's nothing personal," said Brian. "I just find you all really, really annoying. And having your asshole lawyer friends trying to kidnap me didn't exactly help. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to get back to the trial."

Brian finished off his drink and returned to the courtroom, leaving Meowth, fuming, to sit on the stool.

"Da nerve of dat guy," said Meowth. "Who's he think he is, talkin' 'bout Pokémon like dat? Well, if he doesn't want to play nice, den we won't play nice."

*

Once again, the Stalfos shattered against the giant like a man of legos ramming into a wall of bricks.

"Damn it," said Buffy. "How many hit points does this thing have, anyway?" Buffy picked up another Stalfos, thinking to herself that there must be an easier way to do this. As she watched a Stalfos magically reform itself for the twentieth time, she realized there was. "Willow! Next time I destroy these skeletons, can you float their skulls inside the giant suit of armor?"

"Well, of course," said Willow. "I'm no muggle, you know."

"No what? Never mind."

Buffy stepped as far away from the Iron Knuckle as she could. The Stalfos were considerably faster, so they quickly filled and closed the gap between her and the giant. Buffy ran up the wall and somersaulted into the crowd. As she landed her limbs against them, the Stalfos around her all cracked and broke apart, falling to the ground in a familiar fashion.

"Now!"

Alone among the bones, five skulls levitated into the air, then shot like balls through the opening in the great iron helmet, one after the other. There was a single, drawn-out clink as the heads landed against the top of the armored torso—Buffy was expecting them to land in the crotch or legs, but, she had to admit, the lack of an opening between the head and body would make this less painful to watch.

The scattered bones began to shake. Suddenly, they flew at once—or, as if at once—towards the giant's head, scattering across it like a mask. The bones, kept from uniting, seemed to become more aggressive as they push harder in on the helmet, loudly crushing the monster's head in, but the metal wall kept them from reforming. Finally, the Iron Knuckle fell over, dropping a key to the ground, as the bones pressed feebly against the metal casing surrounding the skulls.

Buffy stood still for several seconds, amazed that her plan had actually worked, before picking the key up and unlocking Xander's cell.

"We'd better get to the court house," said Buffy. "Gunn might need us."

*

Brian noticed that, somehow, Meowth looked much more sinister when he returned to the courtroom. His smile seemed just a bit too wide, and his eyes a bit too mischievous; he wore the type of face that would have sprouted devil horns on most cartoon cats.

"Well, Meowth looks happy," said Stewie. "What did you two talk about? Anything sexy?"

"And what were you doing in the bar, may I ask?" said Brian irritably.

"Oh, yes, a minor in a bar. How horrible. Please. Like this is the worst thing I've ever done."

*

[Cutaway gag]

"So, you say this Monkey Paw will grant me any wish?" asked Stewie.

"That's right," responded the creepy archetypal salesperson.

"Well," said Stewie, "I've always wanted a third _Godfather_ movie."

[/Cutaway gag]

*

"Fine," said Brian. "If you must know, he wanted me to join his organization to help steal Pikachu."

"Well, are you going?" asked Stewie.

"Of course not! Why would I want to join an incompetent criminal organization and try to kidnap the single most annoying character in existence?"

"Well, what's the down side? I mean, you're a smart guy, and the police in that show are pretty dumb, so you could probably become pretty successful."

"Not all of us have criminal ambitions, you know."

"No, of course not. I guess you'd rather do something noble, like let the world end."

"What!?"

"Well, you heard them. If you don't go with them, the world will be destroyed."

"Oh, please. Don't tell me that you believe that nonsense."

"Well, actually, yes, I do. Remember, these aren't the only people that came here from another dimension to get you."

"That doesn't prove anything."

"No. No, I guess it doesn't. Well, you may as well try to live out your last seven years in peace and hope that this is all part of some extradimensional plot to kill you just because."

Brian turned away from Stewie and towards Meowth's Cheshire Smile as the cat climbed onto the Judge's stand.

"Your honor, we've decided to offer a compromise," said Meowth. "I believe dis one has some very important precedent."

"Go on," said the judge.

"I'm afraid dat da names of the plaintiff and defendant are restricted, but da case is very famous. It was presided over by judge Solomon…"

"You have _got_ to be kidding," said Brian.

"As a matter of fact, I am not," said Meowth. "Now, I may not have a law degree like Jess and Jimbo over here…"

"Then why are you acting as my lawyer?" Count Olaf asked. "I do not need stupid cats ruining my lawsuit with their inane arguments."

"Let me finish!" said Meowth. "As I was sayin', when two people both claim to be da owner of somethin', and da judge can't decide who's in da right, da only logical thing to do is to cut da thing in half."

Count Olaf just stared at Meowth, giving the cat a look that said he was genuinely surprised by his own newfound respect. "Yes, that would be the only fair solution."

"Brilliant!" said Jessie. "You've saved this court a lot of money, Meowth."

"Here, here," added James. "You should get an honorary degree!"

"Hold on!" said Brian. "You can't decide what to do in this trial based off what the Bible says! What about the separation of church and state?"

"Too true," said Jessie. "Which is why King Solomon's unlawful decision to lie in court and give the baby to whoever tries to save it should be ignored."

"Point taken," said the Judge. "Bailiff? Cut that dog in half."

Immediately, the previously unnoticed bailiff pulled a battle-ax out from behind his back and began to move in on Brian.

"Wait!" Suddenly, Peter leapt onto the floor and blocked the bailiff. (A violinist in the back row began to play the sort of touching music one often hears in _Full House_.) "It's not fair to cut Brian in half. Especially since I probably won't get the good half."

*

[Cutaway gag]

"Brian, I need your help," said Peter. "Cleveland just called to say that the refrigerator at his deli has broken and he needs someone to eat all the food before it spoils, but Quagmire is expecting me to go to a Jenna Jameson film festival. What do I do?"

Brian's lower torso farted.

"You think Lois' birthday is more important? Awww, man."

[/Cutaway gag]

*

"You can have all of him," continued Peter. "It would be better for everyone."

"It's settled, then," said the Judge. "Marsters gets full ownership of the dog."

"Excellent," Count Olaf said. "I am glad to hear this, for it means that I may get the unpleasantness out of the way sooner."

"What unpleasantness?" asked Brian.

"Why, don't you remember? When you ran away last time, you were very sick. I had decided that the only humane thing to do would be to put you out of your misery."

"But I'm _not sick_!" said Brian. "I've been alive for years since this supposedly happened!" He turned desperately to the Judge. "Surely you can see now that this whole thing was a lie!"

"It would seem so," said the Judge. "But the verdict has been made. There's nothing I can do, and your owner does have legal right to perform euthanasia."

"But he isn't trying to make Brian younger!" said Peter. "He wants to _kill_ him!"

"And I intend to," Count Olaf said, promptly grabbing the ax from the bailiff and raising it above his head. Gunn promptly tackled Brian to the ground and shielded him with his body, and both Angel and Spike leapt at Count Olaf, hooking their arms under his and dragging him to the floor.

Olaf dropped his ax, but promptly lifted the two vampires off the ground by their necks, then tossed them down hard.

"Have you children forgotten, already, how far I am beyond both of you?" Count Olaf moved forward and tried to stomp on Angel, but the vampire rolled aside, and Olaf ended up with his foot stuck in the hard floor.

It was at this moment that the door to the courtroom flew open, and the Scooby Gang marched in.


	9. II iv

Dog Heat Dog

Illyria immediately hugged Xander.

"I am glad you're still alive," she said.

"Thanks?" said Xander.

"Once this mission is over, I would like you to take me out on a date, the conclusion of which will involve intercourse."

"You what!?" said Gunn.

"Ummm…" said Xander. And he felt his vocabulary had reached impressive heights, given the situation.

"Aww, isn't that sweet?" said Jessie. "The Nidoqueen has found herself a little Nidoran."

"I am _not_ a Nidoran," said Xander. "Wait. Why is Team Rocket on the First Evil's team?"

"We are not part of the criminal organization known as Team Rocket anymore," said James. "We are now proud members of the criminal law firm known as Wolfram and Hart. We make more money, _and_ it's eviler." James then pulled a small, red and white sphere from his pocket. The device quickly expanded to the size of a baseball.

Jessie pulled out a similar ball. "And without any rodents to interfere, we're going to show you just what a Pokémon can do in a word where there are no other trainers to resist us."

"Go, Seviper!" she shouted, throwing the Pokéball.

"Go, Cacnea!" shouted James, throwing his Pokéball.

Buffy reached out and grabbed both balls before they landed. She nonchalantly pocketed them. "You'll get these back when you learn to behave yourselves."

"Hey!" shouted James. "You can't steal _our_ stuff! You're supposed to be the good guys!"

"Yeah!" said Jessie. "How would you like it if we went around saving people from vampires all the time?"

"Rules change," said Buffy. "So, do you still want to fight?"

Jessie growled and reached into her pocket, but Meowth grabbed her wrist. "Don't, Jess! If da Slayer steals Wobbuffet, too, den we're outta luck!"

"Okay, then," said Jessie. "We'll just have to use a more expendable Pokémon."

At which point the redhead grabbed Meowth by his arm and lifted him off the ground.

"I choose you, Meowth!" she shouted, hurling the cat straight at Buffy. The maneuver caught the Slayer off guard. Meowth slammed headfirst into her face, and his limbs instinctively clutched around her head.

Xander promptly grabbed Meowth's tail and tugged the cat off.

"You keep your claws to yourself," he said.

Meowth growled and leapt at Xander, slashing a succession of stinging claws rapidly across his face dozens of times in only two seconds. Through the blood, Xander could see the cat land back on the floor, looking gruff, just in time to be caught in the back of the head by Illyria's foot.

The impact sent Meowth across the room and into Jessie's lower abdomen, and both of them were knocked back into a table. James helped the two to their feet and escorted them rapidly out of the courtroom. On their way out, the trio somehow managed to plow through the entire Scooby Gang like a bowling ball knocking over pins.

Illyria began to rub the cuts on Xander's face, a sad look in her eyes.

With Wolfram and Hart gone, the Scooby Gang drew their attention to Count Olaf, who was busy swinging unsuccessfully at Angel and Spike.

"Be careful," said Xander to Buffy. "He seems to have gotten the Caleb treatment."

"And me without an ax-scythe," said Buffy.

"I have a knife," said Giles, offering a small throwing dagger. "Will this help?"

"Well, let's see." Buffy grabbed the knife by the blade and flung it straight at Count Olaf, hitting him expertly in the left eye.

"My eye!" screamed Count Olaf. "I can't believe you threw a knife at my eye!"

"Your eye caught it," said Buffy defensively.

Count Olaf grunted loudly and tore the blade out of his eye. Before he had time to wipe the blood from his socket, a wooden chair smashed against his back. He turned around furiously to find Brian holding the splintered wooden legs.

"That was a mistake, you stupid mutt," Count Olaf said. Brian turned and tried to run, but Olaf shot out his long arm and grabbed the dog by the collar. With his other hand, he grabbed Brian's ears and lifted him just enough to stop suffocation. "The only good news for you is that I just realized you are more valuable to me alive than dead. Considering how much the First Evil wants you, I could probably get more than he has already offered if I were to bargain a bit more."

Count Olaf flipped Brian over his shoulder like a sac and began to walk out with him. Buffy, Angel, Spike, Illyria, and Gunn all tried to stop him, but he simply slapped each aside as if they were merely children. Xander, without even thinking, felt himself step aside.

He knew that he couldn't do anything to stop this man, but he didn't like knowing that he had stood back to try nothing. Xander scratched the left side of his face awkwardly as Count Olaf turned, his shiny eye looking into Xander's.

"See? We are very much alike, after all," Olaf said.

Just then, the shiny eye bulged slightly. The sound of a harpoon gun firing seemed to follow, though this was clearly a trick of memory. Count Olaf began to finger the bloodied instrument sticking through his ribs, but only momentarily, before dropping to his knees, then chest, then coughing up a spurt of blood. Xander took the opportunity to leave that particular corner of the courtroom.

*

Stewie lowered his harpoon gun and ran across to Brian. "And you said a harpoon made of diamond wouldn't come in handy."

"You saved my life," said Brian incredulously.

"Don't get any ideas," said Stewie. "He said himself that the _First Evil_ is desperate for you. It doesn't exactly take a genius to realize that his story fits very nicely into theirs."

"I noticed," said Brian. It was one of the worst moments of his life. Not only because he now knew for a fact that he wouldn't live to see his eighths birthday, but because it meant that he had been wrong. Gunn, who he had said all those things to, and who he had made his enemy, was telling the truth. For Brian, having been so completely wrong, when he was so convinced that he was so right, was worse than death. "I guess that now, I have no choice but to—"

*

"Nice going, Xander," said Spike. "If you hadn't distracted Count Olaf by pissing yourself, he might have been shot in the back instead of the side."

"Yeah," said Xander. "Well… yeah?"

"Come on, leave him alone," sad Gunn. "Olaf was too strong. Xander wouldn't have been able to stop him."

"A _toddler_ killed him," said Xander.

"Technically, a baby," said Gunn. "But don't worry. He had a weapon. You didn't."

"Well, I could have at least—"

*

Both conversations were simultaneously interrupted by the sudden collapse of the courtroom door and accompanying wall. Something big and fast emerged from the hole, landing on top of Count Olaf's body, then clasping Brian in its mouth.

Now that the creature was still, it was clearly visible. Its jagged form was shiny and orange, its back covered in quick, short stripes. From the bottom of the metallic torso came four legs, each one ending in a crudely assembled tan paw. On the front of the great body sat a large head; a great, tan muzzle with Brian strapped to the bottom jaw, a mere foot below the sight of a thin hose; and two transparent, window-like eyes. Inside sat Jessie and James, now wearing white shirts with a red _W_ and _H_ on the front, as well as a collarless Meowth.

"Sweet mother of pearl," said Xander. "They have a _Gundam?_"

"Not just any Gundam!" said Meowth. "Dis here is da RK-9000. It represents some of da best state-of-da-art mechanical power we could get in our world and budget. Dis thing is completely impervious to electricity, fire, cold, and wind, and it can withstand da force of a mach truck!"

"So here we are," said Stewie. "Standing in a courtroom, facing something that's big and that will not be stopped by anything, including logic. God, it's like O.J. Simpson all over again."

"We don't have to destroy it," said Buffy. "Just get Brian out of its mouth, then make sure it doesn't catch us."

"I don't think that'll be easy," said Giles. "That thing is a lot faster than any of us."

"They can't shock us and they can't blast us off!" said Jessie. "They don't know what to do!"

"I'm so excited, I don't know what to do either!" said James.

"Den let me start out," said Meowth, then slammed his full paw on top of a big, shiny button.

The lower jaw snapped upward, crushing Brian between it and the top. It continued to press with unimaginable strength, trying to rise higher still. Brian let out one quick scream as the sharp, powerful teeth pressed into his flesh and muscle, and the jaws threatened to snap the bones beneath.

"Let him go!" shouted Xander.

"Sorry," said Jessie. "But our orders are to put this dog to sleep through any means necessary, no matter how mean those means may seem."

"Though that doesn't mean we need to go out of our way to be mean," said James.

"What do ya mean?" said Meowth. "Would you deny a cat da pleasure of playing wit his food?" Then he hit another button, causing the jaws to open for one second, just to snap shut on Brian again.

"Ow!" shouted Brian. "Jesus Christ, is this just because I called you annoying?"

"It is," responded Meowth, then the jaws snapped on Brian again. This time, one of the teeth punched a hole through his left arm.

"Don't be stupid, Meowth!" said Jessie, grabbing Meowth by his neck. "If we stall, then the goody-goodies are going to find a way to free him."

"For example," said Xander. "We could have Illyria hold open the jaws while Giles helps Brian crawl out."

"Exactly!" said Jessie. "And if _that_ happens, the fur is really going to fly."

"Uh, Jess…" said James. "We have a problem."

"What?" Jessie peered out the glass eyes just in time to see Brian taking cover behind Illyria. "Hey? Who let the dog out? Grrrr… you'll pay for that! RK-9000, Fire Blast!"

Jessie viciously punched a button on the control console. Immediately, a gigantic ball of fire burst out through the robot's mouth, leaving a fiery trail across the ground and evaporating the far wall. The flame had brushed and ignited Spike's leather jacket, which he promptly removed.

"That's the second time I lost that jacket," he said. "But I'll tell you one thing, there's no bloody way that Team Rocket is getting away with the same stuff as the Immortal."

Buffy leaned towards Angel. "Who's the Immortal?"

"Powerful leader of the demon underworld," responded Angel. "You'll meet him in a year or so." Then, as an afterthought, he added: "I knew the guy personally. You'd be surprised how good he is at keeping secrets, even from the supernatural inner circles. You could study the guy for ages and never even hear about one of the many, many STDs he has."

"Thanks for the footnote," said Buffy with disgust.

By this time, Spike had leapt onto the side of the RK-9000 and was climbing towards the head.

"When I get in there," he said, "I'll make you wish you were back in animé-land getting fried by someone that hasn't figured out that locking you in a closet and breaking off your legs would keep you in check better than simply throwing your pathetic asses…"

"We hear you knocking," said Jessie, "but you can't come in. RK-9000! Flare Blitz!"

Suddenly, the robot's metallic shell heated up like a hot oven. Spike leapt off and landed on a table that quickly became a pile of wood.

"Anyone have another idea?" asked Buffy.

"No problem," said Xander. "All we need is to find a really big weapon that doesn't use electricity, fire, cold, wind, or less force than a mach truck."

"Or we could hit their gas tank," said Spike.

"Their gas tank isn't visible from the outside," pointed out Giles.

"What if we could find a way inside?" said Angel.

"This is pathetic!" said Brian. "You're supposed be _serious_ heroes, and you're getting your asses kicked by comedy relief! Come on! When was the last time you saw a respectable action hero take crap from a Saturday morning cartoon villain?"

*

[Cutaway gag]

Having sent the dead, Santa-cap-wearing terrorist and his elevator down a single floor, John McClane proceeded to pry open the elevator door. Before he could climb onto the box, the sound of a shotgun blast tore through the room. McClane fell back in shock and pain, only barely able to make out the balding face of his assassin, almost missing the last words he would ever hear.

"Yippee Ki Yay, Mothewf***ew," said Elmer Fudd. "Heheheheheheh."

[/Cutaway gag]

*

"Well, they do have a giant robot," said Buffy. "Kinda cuts back on the funny."

"God, no wonder you almost lost to a guy that can't even touch things. Just throw a table through the freaking window and climb in to get them!"

Illyria turned her head towards the nearest table, and began to walk towards it.

But Xander said, "Do you really think these guys would go to the trouble of reinforcing their robot if they were just going to—"

But his sarcasm was cut off by a loud crash. The glass eyes of RK-9000 had been shattered. Inside, the lawyers were held against the back wall by a long, wooden table.

"I can't believe you didn't get stronger glass!" said Jessie to Meowth.

"I coulda if ya didn't make me waste da budget on leather seats!" responded the cat.

As they were arguing, Spike had climbed into the front of the robot. He was now sitting on the control panel, playing with a railroad spike between his forefinger and thumb.

"Tell you what," he said. "Since I have a soul now, I'm going to let you choose what I'll do to ya'. Your first choice is that I stay here with you and use this spike to renovate your still living carcasses while my friends take the dog back to Silverlock Castle. And the dog looks like he could use some convincing, so that could take hours."

"What's behind door number two?" squeaked James.

"You tell me where the self-destruct button is on this thing, and I let you sit here until it blows. But no railroad spikes."

The lawyers exchanged nervous glances.

"Well?" said Spike. "I don't have all day, you know." He then began to hum the tune from _Jeopardy_.

"Well, the second one would certainly be much quicker," said James.

"And we're used to it," added Jessie.

"Try that blue button in the corner," said James.

Spike reached for a blue button. "This one?"

"No, the other corner," said Jessie.

"Between the red and green ones," said Meowth.

"Ah, I see," said Spike. "Thanks, mates!"

Spike stepped back a few feet and did some light stretches. Then he jabbed the blue button and dove out of the robot. The explosion trailed him closely, but it's boundaries seemed to lie only a foot at the most outside the robot. When the smoke cleared away, only a single hole in the ceiling, one of the machine's mechanical legs, and a collection of destroyed furniture remained.

*

A half-mile above the city, Wolfram and Hart's Lawyers mused on their failings.

"Do ya think dat dis law firm will be as forgiving as our old boss?" asked Meowth.

"I think we shouldn't wait for a letter of recommendation," said Jessie.

"I just hope the term 'terminated' isn't taken too literally," said James.

"It looks like Wolfram and Hart's blasting off agaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaain!"

*

As he stared at the ruined courthouse, Brian felt both pride and fear. There was little doubt in his mind now that his life—and his death—was every bit as important as Gunn had told him, yet he had to admit that he would have liked to live out at least a few more of the last seven years of his life before his metaphorical crucifixion.

"You don't use a literal crucifix, do you?" he asked.

"No," said Angel. "We're just going to drown you."

"Had to take the least humane route, huh?" said Brian. "No lethal injections or anything? Geez. Where's PETA when you need them?"

*

[Cutaway gag]

A milkman walked down the sidewalk happily. Suddenly, a bodybuilder-sized protester ran up behind him and forcibly restrained his arms. Another man tore off the milkman's shirt.

"What are you doing?" asked the milkman.

"The same think that's being done to billions of innocent cows worldwide," responded the second man as he reached out and grabbed the milkman's nipples...

[/Cutaway gag]

*

"Are you ready to go?" said Angel.

"Can I say goodbye to everybody else first?"

"Sure. I'll wait here."

Brian looked over the teary faces of the Griffin family, then the stone gazes of the Scoobies and Angel Investigators. He narrowed his eyes at the latter.

Angel glanced to the others in his group. "As in, I'll wait in this building. Outside this room." He turned to Buffy and the others on his right, then motioned his head towards the door. "Come on."

On the way out, Giles turned to Gunn. "By the way, Charles, what's your alma mater?"

"Learned everything I know on the streets."

"You practiced law on the street?"

"Huh? Oh! Yeah. Well, that's just my nickname for Yale."

Brian turned towards his family while his executioners left. He faced Chris first.

"Brian?" said Chris. "What will happen to you when you die?"

"I don't know," said Brian. "Probably nothing. But… well, I guess that a lot of other people will survive. That's why I'm doing it."

"Oh," said Chris. "Okay. Well, just so you know, if you come back as a ghost, you can stay in my room. Well, at least until I'm old enough to bring a girl up there. Or a magazine with pictures of girls. That includes the Sears catalogue!"

"Okay," said Brian. "Moving on."

He turned to face Stewie.

"Stewie," said Brian. "I'm betting that you won't miss me when I'm gone."

"That's not true," said Stewie. "Of course I'll miss you. Frankly, you're the only intellectual equal I have in this whole house."

"Or my math text book!" interrupted Chris. "The eights look like boobies."

Peter belly laughed aloud. "Boobies," he repeated.

"We may not get along," said Stewie, "but I hold our rivalry very dear. You're like the Felix Ungar to my Oscar Madison. Spock to my Leonard McCoy. Sam Malone to my Diane Chambers."

"What was that last one?"

"Spock to my Leonard McCoy."

"Just making sure."

Brian turned to Lois. "Well, Lois. I guess this is the last we'll ever see of each other."

"I guess it is," said Lois. "Brian? Are you sure you wouldn't rather wait a while? Maybe go when you're 13?"

"Believe me, I'd love to," said Brian. "But it's too risky. If something did happen—if I was hit by a car or something, then what? Everything would be gone. Besides, I don't think that Count Olaf or his boss is going to stop coming for me. The sooner we do this, the better."

"You're so brave, Brian," said Lois. "But isn't there _anything_ you'd like to do before you leave?"

"Well…"

"Besides that."

"I… I wasn't going to say anything," said Brian. "Get your mind out of the gutter."

Brian awkwardly stepped to the next person in line.

"Meg… Well, bye."

He turned to face Peter.

"I can't believe you're doing this," said Peter. "I mean, this will make you like Jesus. Only, you know, no one's going to remember you hundreds of years after you die, and wars won't break out over the proper way to worship you. Oh, and Jesus wasn't an atheist."

"Peter, you're one of the biggest idiot's I've ever known. Still, I couldn't have found a better friend."

"Thanks, Brian. You know, even when you're gone, and our family buys another dog—or maybe a cat—I don't think I'll ever be able to say that we've replaced you. And not just the talking part, either. If we found a dog that could talk, and sing, and ride a bicycle like a bear, he'd still only be half the friend you were."

Suddenly and inopportunely, the door swung open with a loud _smack_. Gunn entered the room in a panic.

"Sorry to break up the good-byes, dog, but there's another Big Bad coming. We have to go _now.__"_

"Okay, okay," said Brian. "I'm coming." He then turned back towards the family. "Take care, everyone."

Gunn held open the door while staring impatiently at Brian. The dog walked briskly out the door, then followed Gunn for what seemed like seconds until they finally stopped in a broom closet on the other side of the building.

"Before I die, I just want to apologize for everything I said before," said Brian.

"Don't worry about it," said Gunn. "Our story was pretty unbelievable."

"What are we doing in here, anyway?" asked Brian.

Brian felt strong hands grab both his forelegs. A glint, as if from a dagger, could be seen inches from his eyes.

"Sorry," said the voice of Angel. "But our Dark God usually prefers we make our sacrifices in broom closets."

*

-

*

Elmer Fudd is owned by Warner Brothers.

John McClane and _Die Hard_ are owned by 20th Century Fox.


	10. Silverlock Castle 2

At Silverlock Castle, Part 2

Brian opened his eyes.

The first thing he noticed was the size of the room he was in. It closely resembled a gorgeous honeymoon suite, if all the walls were gracefully knocked down to make an even bigger room. Even so, the room's size didn't seem to stretch out the beauty any, as every inch of it seemed covered by some exquisite material or fabric. He didn't know for sure where he was, but he was pretty sure it wasn't a closet.

"Oh my God!" said Brian. "Is this Heaven? Oh, geez, I hope I don't get kicked out for saying 'Oh my God' here."

"This is not Heaven," said a familiar British voice.

"Mr. Peabody?" said Brian. "Is this Hell? Wait… why are you in Hell? Is there a joke here I don't get?"

"None at all," said Mr. Peabody. "You are not in Heaven or the other place. You're not even dead yet."

"I'm not?" said Brian. "But… who saved me?"

"An associate of mine named A. Square," responded Mr. Peabody. "You see, after Charles Gunn and the others left you alone—quite unwisely, I might add—they decided to contact us on the success of their mission. Unfortunately, while they were gone, their counterparts from your world took their place."

"So, in my world, Buffy the Vampire Slayer actually _does_ sacrifice people to her dark Gods?"

"Apparently so. Fortunately, Square was able to pull you from your world just in time to save you from an untimely death."

"So he could have just grabbed me at any time?"

"Of course. Yet, as I'm sure you realise, bringing you here, before you have agreed to anything, would constitute kidnapping, and would thus be immoral. That's why we'll have to wait until each of the Bearers is ready to come willingly."

Mr. Peabody turned up the lights, drying up the last bits of darkness in the room. "We will have to sacrifice all the Bearers at once, so you will have a few months left to enjoy our facilities. I suggest you spend as little of that time as possible sleeping. You will have plenty of time for that later."

"So I can't just live out the rest of my life here, then sacrifice myself in my old age?"

"I'm afraid that wouldn't be wise. Our defences are not impenetrable. Many more attempts will be made on your life, even here, and, unfortunately, not even I can guarantee that you'll survive for long. Your remaining time is yours out of necessity only."

"Well, could you at least tell me what will happen to me when I die? Is there an afterlife?"

"In some worlds there are, and in some there are not," responded Mr. Peabody. "People who die in Silverlock Castle will usually remain here as ghosts. In your case, however, because you are one of the Bearers, your spirit will be reincarnated in its next body."

"Thanks," said Brian. "Do you know who I'll be reincarnated as?"

"I know everything. In your next life, you will be brought back as a character on _According to Jim_."

Brian considered this for a moment. "Huh. And, tell me, what'll happen if I don't?"

"Existence itself will shatter, killing everyone, and forcing billions of souls to spend eternity floating through a lifeless void, knowing only cold and fear."

Brian thought it over. "Tough choice," he decided.


	11. III i

At first, the plains were devoid of life, with only the thunder and lightning creating any disturbance. Then, suddenly, as the storm seemed to peak in ferocity, three elderly figures appeared.

"When shall we three meet again In thunder, lightning, or in rain?" said the First Witch.

"When the hurlyburly's done," said the Second Witch, "When the battle's lost and won."

"That will be ere the set of sun," said the Third Witch.

"Where the place?"

"Upon the heath."

"There to meet with Macbeth."

"Yet worlds have changed since last we met."

"The line of time's no longer set."

"The Slayer comes."

"Her vampire too."

"They come adjoined, but leave askew."

"The ills of Macbeth shall lay the seeds, and strife yet shall upset their needs."

"Fair is foul, and foul is fair: Hover through the fog and filthy air."

_*_

"_You wanna know? 'Cause the answer's easy. I'm Bad Ash, and you're Good Ash. You're Little Goody Two-Shoes."_

--Bad Ash, _Army of Darkness_. Written by Sam Raimi & Ivan Raimi, Directed by Sam Raimi.

King Duncan

The Scooby Gang appeared outside an early 11th-century castle. The wet streets, damaged houses, and general disarray amongst the people indicated that a serious storm had recently passed through. Dawn was nearing, but the nearby castle's shadow provided sufficient shade for Spike and Angel.

Nearby, a well-dressed soldier was addressing a drunk.

"Was it so late, friend, ere you went to bed, That you do lie so late?"

"Faith, sir, we were carousing till the second cock," responded the drunk, "and drink, sir, is a great provoker of three things."

"I'm sorry to interrupt you," said Giles, "but do you know where Macbeth lives?"

Macduff looked at Giles, clearly resenting the interruption. "He's near enough to hear you, sir. His castle sits before thine eyes." As he spoke, he pointed out the aforementioned castle. It was a large structure, didn't seem especially tall, but its width stretched off towards either side of the town, as if it were trying to make itself the focus of the area.

"Thank you for the help, good sir," said Giles. He then turned to the others. "I can now confirm that this is William Shakespeare's _Macbeth_."

"Really?" said Xander sarcastically.

"More specifically, act two, scene three."

"After Duncan's murder," said Angel.

As the Porter's prose discussion of drunkenness wound down, another man—looking slightly shaken—emerged from the castle to greet his guests. Buffy looked at him, then nudged Giles.

"Whose that?" she asked.

("Is the King stirring, worthy Thane?" asked Macduff.

"Not yet," responded the man.)

"That's Macbeth," said Giles. "Please don't tell me that he's the Bearer."

Buffy was silent for a second. "You might want to sit down for this."

"The messiah in this world is evil?" said Willow.

"And he's only going to become more evil as the play progresses," said Giles. "Right now, he's only murdered one person, so he's not completely gone yet."

"Now _there_ is something you don't hear every day," said Xander.

"I am serious," said Giles. "_Macbeth_ is about the title character's slow descent into evil. As the play progresses, he kills more people with less remorse. Look at him. He's killed one person so far, and is clearly still shaken by the experience. Right now, he's probably a fair bit less evil than Andrew was earlier this year."

"Then we'd better make sure he doesn't have a chance to catch up with Warren," said Buffy.

"I'll see what I can do," said Angel. "If this doesn't work, someone, pull me off him." The vampire then ran to the castle doors and grabbed Macbeth by the shoulder.

"You're coming with us," he said.

Macbeth slapped Angel's hand off his shoulder, then grabbed his sword. "I think not, sirrah. Now begone, Lest I be forced to rive thy skull in two."

"Drink doth produce rage," said Macduff to Macbeth. "Do not be quick to judge the drunk."

"Thou art right, friend," said Macbeth. "He's not a threat."

"I don't suggest you ignore me," said Angel. "I know your secret."

"What secret mean thou, drunkard fiend?" said Macbeth.

"How many secrets do you have?" said Angel. "Because I'm willing to bet mine's the worst one. The Duncan one. And it's coming out if you don't follow me."

Macbeth's eyes widened in realization and terror. "O daemon! Fiend! How doth thou plan To wound my honor 'fore the king?"

"I'll fetch the guards," said Macduff before running into the castle.

"Restrain this rogue!" said Lennox.

Xander stepped forward and stuck out his chest, trying to look as tough as his unarmed, untrained self could.

"Go ahead and try," he said in his manliest voice. "We'll knock all your guards down hard."

"We?" said Angel, looking at Xander in surprise. He could not believe that Xander had forgotten his instructions already.

"Well, mostly Angel," said Xander, motioning towards the vampire with his head. "But my foot knows its way around a shin."

Giles, fortunately, had caught on, and dashed out to grab Angel and tackle him to the ground. The vampire knocked the watcher off and leapt back to his feet, and looked at Giles with a well-acted expression of anger.

Suddenly, an exclamation of "O horror, horror, horror!" came from inside the castle. Soon afterwards, Macduff rushed out. "Tongue nor heart Cannot conceive nor name thee!"

"What's the matter?" asked Macbeth and Lennox.

"It's the king," said Angel.

"The king is ill?" said Lennox.

"Alas, he's dead," said Macduff.

Macbeth brought his hands to his face, weeping with a surprising authenticity. His voice seemed genuinely filled with rage as he spoke:

_I would not have believed before tonight had come_

_That even hell had malice such in keep,_

_And yet a Devil named in blasphemy_

_Despoiled life most dear from king, from men._

_The boundless sin displayed today was deep._

_If Angel lives, then deeper will it grow._

_His sins will serve as prelude toward his fate._

Macbeth drew his sword and stuck it through Angel's chest. Angel looked down, more surprised than he should have been that Macbeth chose to blame him instead of Duncan's guards. Nonetheless, he realized this would prevent them from dying needlessly. He gritted his teeth and closed his eyes, then grabbed the sword and yanked it from his torso.

"The fiend was barred from Hell itself," said Macduff in a whisper.

"True," said Angel. "But, more importantly, I'm a vampire, and I came here to kill you before these heroes (he motioned to Buffy and company) could give you the good news. Seems they were faster than I thought." Angel realised that his plan to get Macbeth had only ruined his chances of ever getting the Bearer's trust, but the others still had a chance. Most of the others.

"We had good news?" said Xander.

"There's no need to pretend you're on their side, Xander," said Angel harshly.

"Hey, wait a minute…" protested Xander.

"Don't bother," said Angel. "These people heardyou supporting me."

Xander looked at Angel with apprehension. He knew that Angel did that out of necessity, but that didn't mean he hadn't enjoyed it. "Well, I guess your brilliant plan of running out and ordering him to come with you when he was surrounded by friends was foiled." Then, turning to Buffy, he added, "But don't think you heroes have won! We will be back to kill Macbeth later! Won't we?"

"You bet," said Angel. They did need to keep Macbeth's guard up.

"Er… about that news?" said Buffy.

"Your news cannot revive our souls," said Macbeth, "And yet I'll give my ear. Go on."

"Oh. Well…" started Giles.

(Malcolm and Donalbain entered unnoticed at this point.)

"Well, I guess now that I've failed," said Angel, "there's no use in hiding the fact that the King was planning to retire, and hired you goons to protect Macbeth after he replaced him as king."

"Retire?" gasped Macbeth, his face turning pale as the moon. "Could this wretch bring truths?"

"Er, yes," said Giles.

"Thy skills shall not be held in faith, with tongues as weak as babes to vouch," said Malcolm.

"Don't let our crude manner of speaking throw you off," said Giles. "We will be more than happy to prove our skills."

"That shall you do, in time," said Malcolm, then turned to Macbeth. "I shall Consult my father yet to learn Why Donalbain and I he would Discard so that the royal blood Should flow in veins outside our line."

"Your royal father's murdered," said Macduff.

"O, by whom?" said Malcolm.

"Me," said Angel. "I was trying to stop him from giving the throne to Macbeth. But at least my plan isn't a total loss. Since he hasn't made the proclamation yet, the throne is legally yours. Sure, when word of Duncan's actual wish gets out, the political turmoil will force you to fight like hell to keep your city, but at least it's yours for the time being. Congratulations, Malcolm. You're king. Just like your father didn't want."

"The price is high, and prize too low," responded Malcolm bitterly. "And if the King desire Macbeth To rule, it should be done, methinks."

"If such he said, indeed t'would come To pass," said Macduff. "Yet fiends oft lie for goals Unseen by those outside their realm."

"Not us," said Xander. "We never lie. Wait… let me start that again."

"Shut up, toad," said Angel. "Living in the woods will be one thing, but I'm not putting up with your inane chatter the whole time."

"If life you want, thou luck is sparse," said Macduff. "You think that murder earns mere fines?"

"I think that, if you stab either of us again, we'll be forced to pull your heart out and show it to you before you die," said Angel. "Remember, we are _both_ vampires. And, cowardly as he may be, my companion has still been known to tear out a man's shinbone and impale him with it." Angel then turned and leapt into an empty carriage, which he forced Xander to steer as he, himself, hid under a pile of hay in the back.

Once the vampires had escaped, Malcolm said to Macduff, "Methinks Macbeth should wear the crown. Should Angel strike, 'tis best Macbeth Doth face the slings. He'd live; I'd fall."

"Your work 'tis needed soon, it seems," said Macbeth to Giles and Buffy. "We've much to speak of, young ones. Come."

*

Once our heroes had been tested, shown about the castle, and briefed on their duties, Macbeth gave Illyria and Spike the first shift, and let the rest of the party have the evening off. Those who were free met in Giles' chamber.

"So what do we do now?" Buffy asked.

"We only have two scenes before Banquo is killed," said Giles. "It's supposed to happen en route to the castle. As much as I'd like to hope that Angel will find Banquo and keep an eye on him, there's no way for him to know exactly where the attack was. That's why we'll have to work from the inside. Someone will have to keep an eye out for Banquo himself. If memory serves me, Macbeth hired the killers immediately after talking with him. Someone will have to eavesdrop on the murderers, then follow and disable them."

"And what if all that fails?" asked Buffy.

"Then we'll have to do everything in our power to protect this tyrant, won't we?"

"And that means we have to cover his murdering toosh until we can save him," said Willow.

"Not like we haven't done that before," Gunn muttered to himself.

At least, that was what it sounded like to Giles, and he couldn't help keeping an eye on Gunn for the rest of the meeting.

*

Meanwhile, Xander had finished assembling a mass of lumber into an inhabitable facsimile of a house.

"You know," said Xander, "I'm glad we'll get to spend this quality time together. There's something about being alone with you and surrounded by wood that excites me."

"Glad you've still got a sense of humor," said Angel from the under the hay. "You'll need it. As for me, I'm going to make myself useful."

"And how do you plan to do that?"

"By getting help from the Weird Sisters. I'm sure they know about this Battery problem."

"Sounds like a plan. What can I do?"

"Why are you asking me?"

"Well… I… it's been a while since I've read this particular book. And I figured that, since you seem to remember it pretty well, you could give me advice."

"In other words, you need my help because you didn't read _Macbeth_?"

"Hey! I… well, I watched the movie!"

"Which one? _Throne of Blood_? That doesn't count."

"Well… shut up, Angel. I mean, after answering my question."

"Well, let's see here… have you developed any new super powers since we last met?"

"Well… I'm a damn good construction worker. And a damn good carpenter."

"Terrific. If we find any bodies of water, you can carry me across them."

Xander scowled.

Angel didn't see it, but he picked up on the silence. "You may as well come with me. Can't have you getting kidnapped again. We leave at sundown."

Angel covered his head with his coat, then jumped under into fort and felt the roof for any light-leaking cracks before he could relax enough to lie down and rest.

"I was just kidnapped that one time," said Xander. "And it's not like you haven't needed us to save your ass before."

"Right. But I have more experience saving other people. You, on the other hand, are a screw-up. Case in point: when I attacked Macbeth, I clearly said that, if my plan doesn't work, someone will need to pull me off him. You, without thinking, openly professed your support for Team Threatened the King."

"I thought that was part of the plan."

"No, you assumed it was part of the plan. 'Thought' would not be the correct word to describe any of your actions."

"Right, and your plan was so well thought-out. Tell me. Why, exactly, would you care if Macbeth had Buffy and Co. as bodyguards?"

"I don't know, but I don't have to know, and neither does Macbeth or the other noblemen. If they think that I don't want Macbeth to be king, and that I do not want the Scooby Gang as his guards, then, guess what? Screwing my plan will take priority over understanding my motivations."

Xander was about to answer, but realised he couldn't. He knew that Angel had a point there. If he tried to argue, he'd just make himself look bad and, worse, Angel look good. He couldn't bring himself to do that, so he just curled up on the ground, wishing he had a sleeping bag.

He decided to change the subject. "We don't have to cuddle for body heat, do we?"

"Vampires don't have body heat," responded Angel.

"Right." That new line of conversation didn't help.

*

Macbeth turned to Giles.

"'Tis time that Banquo nears. I wish To speak in private, so remain."

"Of course," said Giles. He, as well as Buffy and Gunn, stayed behind as Macbeth and his wife left their private chambers to meet with Banquo. Once they were out of earshot, Giles removed a walkie-talkie from his pocket and turned it on.

There was a brief moment of static interference, then Banquo's voice could be heard from the device. "Thou hast it now—King, Cawdor, Glamis, all—"

"That's it," said Giles. "The next two people to enter that room will be the murderers." He turned to Buffy. "Do you think you can follow them without being seen?"

"Don't worry," responded Buffy. "I'll be as invisible as Frodo."

*

Angel was starting to hate wandering through the forest.

"This isn't as funny after the third hour," he growled. "Come on! I know you can hear me! I know you're not working for the First Evil. Sure, you're evil, but you're smart enough to know that it'll betray you. You don't want to die with this world!"

"On that you're right, if only part be told.

"You think that we can't 'scape this world?"

"The bars that holds one's place in worlds is frail.

"Only their sight's defects prevents their bail."

"The world you know as Oz shall stand, you've heard.

"To there we'll go. So wherefore should we gird?"

Angel and Xander turned to the three crones, now standing in clear view.

"I don't know," he said. "But you're going to, aren't you? You wouldn't have appeared before me if you didn't have something to say."

("Are those beards?" said Xander incredulously to Angel.

"Shut up.")

"You're wise beyond your many years," said the First Witch. "One can't betray who does not trust his word. Yet greed consumes that which its power can."

"And the First Evil is more powerful than you?" said Angel.

"It wasn't always such," said the Third Witch, "but since It found the other worlds, it found A legion, strong apart as joint."

"We are like rats in eyes so wicked," said the Second Witch. "Too big to leave, too small to fear."

"So you're hoping that we'll stop the First Evil before it decides to kill you. Makes sense. But, you know, we won't be able to stop it if you don't tell us what we should do about Macbeth."

"The First will sway Macbeth so far beyond Redemption, none shall suffer him to live."

"All, even heroes, shall be hunters soon."

"Could you be more specific?"

"Protect the king 'til death is due, Then help will come and keep him safe until the fear of hell has swayed his soul."

"Yet mark that fate has shifted. Foes Unseen shall join the play, and King Macbeth may die before his time."

"Great," said Angel. "So the gist of that was, I'll have to protect Macbeth from the good guys in this world and the bad guys from other worlds?"

"'Tis true enough," responded the First Witch. "We must depart. Take care, O warriors." She then turned to Xander, looking him straight in the eyes. "Above all, you."

Xander and Angel backed away as the Weird Sisters vanished.

"Did she just hit on me?" asked Xander.

Angel shuttered. Even he wouldn't have wished that on Xander.

*

"But who did bid thee join with us?" said the First Murderer.

"Macbeth," responded the Third Murderer.

"He needs not our mistrust," said the Second Murderer, "since he delivers Our offices and what we have to do To the direction just."

"Then stand with us," said the First Murderer.

"I wouldn't complain about having too much help, if I were you," said Buffy, entering the scene from behind some trees. "That… that was complaining, right? I've always had trouble with Shakespeare."

The murderers rested their hands on their daggers. "If thou will steal our job, begone. We won't abide such schemes tonight."

"I'm not here to steal your job!" she said. "I'm here to stop you. Big difference. Well… maybe not so much to you…"

"Thou won't betray Macbeth at present, whore," said the First Murderer, drawing his dagger.

"Oh, you shouldn't have called me that," said Buffy.

The three murderers pulled their blades and attacked. A minute later, the fight was over, and Buffy was stacking the unconscious bodies on top of each other.

Then she saw a young man run from the woods, tears dripping down his face. She recognized him as Banquo's son, Fleance.

"Hold on," she said. "Where's the fire?"

"No flames in Hell compare with such A monster thou wilt find beyond The trees, my father's corpse below."

Buffy felt a jab of remorse. She had forgotten that the First Evil would try to keep Macbeth's destiny on track, and now a man was dead because of her stupidity.

"I'm sorry," she said. "But don't worry. I'll kill whatever monster did this to your father."

Buffy then ran past Fleance into the woods, wondering which horrific beast the First Evil had hired for this job. Images of everything from _The Night of the Living Dead_ to _Godzilla_ ran through her mind.

Yet she had never thought that a beaming purple octopus would be her opponent.

"They don't make monsters like they used to," said Buffy.

"Come now," said the octopus, "is that really any way to talk about ol' Ultros? And to think, I was just going to complement today's heroes on being so much prettier."

"Don't try to sweet talk your way out of this," said Buffy. "I know you killed Banquo."

Ultros held up Banquo's limp corpse in one of his large, slimy tentacles. The body wasn't mangled or visibly damaged, so Buffy figured that Ultros had killed him using blunt force.

"Well, you've certainly gotten all your guesses right, but you aren't exactly answering the tough questions," said Ultros. "How about you tell me what you plan to do about it?"

Buffy shrugged. "Well, I usually fall back on decapitation, but since you're all head, I might have to use a simple stabbing."

Buffy pulled a sword from her sheath and rammed it hard into Ultros' left eye.

"Ow!" he shouted. "Are you trying to blind me?" Ultros pulled the sword from his (miraculously still whole) eye and dropped it to the ground. "And I thought I was the only one supposed to fight that dirtily. Well, when in Rome…"

Ultros lifted his four foremost tentacles, and released a cloud of ink. Buffy held her breath as the substance sprayed over her, clouding her vision. Suddenly, a large, coiled tentacle, too sudden for her to dodge, knocked her out of the cloud.

Reacting quickly, Buffy landed on her hands and feet instead of her face, then rolled out of the way before another limb could grab her.

"Stop rolling around so much!" said Ultros. "I just want a hug!"

"Eew," seemed the only possible response.

Ultros swung at Buffy again, this time with all eight tentacles. Buffy tried to dodge, but there were simply too many of the appendages reaching for her, and she was soon grabbed by all four limbs and pulled towards the toothy purple visage.

And yet when she got there, she only became more frightened. She didn't know what this octopus would do. Kill her, she assumed, but this seemed like a slimy character, even by slimy creature standards. In fact, if her memories of _Final Fantasy_ were reliable, this octopus was quite the pervert.

"Let me go!" said Buffy. " If you do, I'll take off my bra."

Ultros, so shocked that blood squirted out of where his nose should have been, released Buffy's legs. "Really?"

Buffy, hanging in the air by her wrists, pulled herself up and clamped both her heels into either side of Ultros' tentacles. He screamed and dropped her.

"No," said Buffy. She then grabbed the tentacle and quickly tied it around a nearby tree. As Ultros shouted at her about how hard it is to untie a knot without thumbs, Buffy tied the rest of his arms around stumps and branches. Ultros was too busy trying, unsuccessfully, to free his first tentacle to notice until it was too late. Only after all eight limbs were trapped did Ultros finally look around at his situation.

His eyes bulged. "Hey! I need those!"

"'Those' will be the least of your problems," said Buffy. She drew her sword and, with a single thrust, lodged it into his skull. She then braced herself against the creature's forehead and, with a single strong pull, snapped the handle off the blade.

"That _really_ hurt!" said Ultros. "You should have finished me off. Now, when I get out of here, I'm going to make you pay with _so_ much interest!"

"I don't have time to kill you personally," said Buffy. "I've seen Dawn play _Final Fantasy III_ and, for all I know, I'm only causing, like, ten points of damage to you. Fortunately, there were a lot of storms lately, and that piece of metal sticking out of your head like a lightening rod will… well, I guess the simile kinda gives it away. You were vulnerable to thunder, right?"

"Hey! Wait a minute!"

"Yeah, I thought so. Well, good bye. Say 'hi' to Banquo for me." Buffy began to walk off, then stopped. "No, sorry, you won't be going in his direction, will you?"

*

"I know we left our cabin around here somewhere," said Angel. He glanced at the sky. It looked like the sun would be rising soon.

"Say, Angel?" said Xander.

"Yeah?"

"There was something in _Macbeth_ about trees marching on the castle, right?"

"No, they were just soldiers carrying sticks to look like trees."

Xander looked at one of the nearby trees, as if expecting to find a zipper. "Then they must have some pretty good disguises," said Xander, "because I am sure I saw a tree move." As he looked closer, he could have sworn the tree had a face.

"What the hell is this!?" said Angel, leaning down and picking up a stick. "Someone smashed our cabin!"

"And for that, I apologize," said a booming voice. "But in this land of dead plants, logs and trees are hard to separate from our own kind. We did not want you to benefit from the murder of innocents."

"Who's that?" said Xander.

Suddenly, one of the trees—or perhaps a man who looked very tree-like—stepped forward.

"I am Fangorn of the Ents," said the tree. "But you may call me Treebeard."

"Wow," said Xander.

"You are clearly men," said Treebeard. "Yet you seem to be strangers to this world, as are we."

"We are," said Xander. "But why are you here?"

"That is not something we can answer at present," said Treebeard, "and I am not so hasty as to venture a premature guess. In time, however, I suspect the answer will come to us."

"Why do I have a bad feeling about this?" said Xander.

"Same reason I do," said Angel. He crossed his arms and began to pace. "The Ents wouldn't go to war unless provoked, and they don't meddle in the affairs of humans. So the First is expecting Macbeth to provoke them. Which he will, because he's a bastard." He turned to Xander. "Stay here with the Ents, where it's safe. I'm going to look around the woods."

"What do you expect to find?"

"I don't know. But I'll find more if I explore. Besides, these big wood guys are creeping the hell out of me."

And with that, Angel disappeared. Xander, having never liked Angel, didn't miss him, and decided to turn to the giants he stood among.

"Just so you guys know, I loved you in the movie."

"I am unfamiliar with this "movie," said Treebeard. "But your love is appreciated."

Xander sat against a nearby tree, after making sure it hadn't any arms or legs. "Well, this is going to be a boring day."

"Xander?"

"Huh?"

He turned. Illyria was entering the clearing. Only it didn't look like Illyria. Her leather bodysuit was replaced with a more casual white tanktop and red miniskirt. The blue streaks were gone, giving her a more down-to-earth, girl next door appearance. She looked like the sort of woman Xander had always wanted in High School, but could never get the time of day from.

"Illyria?" said Xander. "Oh, God. It's the First, acting like some other girl in Illyria's body, isn't it?"

"No, sweetie, it's okay," said Illyria, rubbing Xander's face. Her forcer enunciation was gone, replaced with a soothing southern accent. "I'm real, see? This is just the real me. Well, it's the real old me, anywho. You can call me Fred." As she spoke, she stepped forward, and Xander could feel her beasts pressing against his chest. "I thought this form might appeal to you more."

"Oh, you're appealing, alright," said Xander. "But what do you want from me? I mean, we can't do it in front of the Ents. And if you're going to use a man's name…"

At this, Illyria or Fred removed her shirt.

"Then again," said Xander, who felt she had made two very good points, "I'm sure the Ents won't mind."

The trees exchanged awkward glances, and turned to leave the glade with only a touch of uncharacteristic haste as Xander and Illyria or Fred removed their clothing and began to wrap around one another.

*

At that same moment, Macbeth was sitting in his throne, anxiously awaiting news of Fleance's death, and talking to himself:

_Accursed wait! Why must I hire_

_Two men I hardly know to kill_

_My greatest threat? T__'__would better be_

_Had I myself performed the deed?_

_At least I would not have to fear_

_Betrayal from the thieves. O woe!_

Then a familiar voice responded: "Don't fret, Macbeth; thy cause was just."

Macbeth leapt to his feet, then ran and closed the door. When he turned around, Banquo sat on the throne. No, it couldn't be Banquo. The real Banquo would not be so quick to detect and dismiss the real cause of Macbeth's stress. This was a devil in Banquo's guise. "Had such a chance arose to me, Dost thou believe I'd strike it down?" asked the devil.

"Thou art too great."

"As were thou, once."

There was a moment of silence as Macbeth considered the situation. "Thou art a fiend, not dear Banquo."

"Perhaps," said the First Evil. "Yet fiends may give presents If means art met through such an act."

"What means?"

"My means are mine alone, Though yet methinks the gift you'll want."

There was a quick puff of pink smoke, and a legion of silhouettes were visible within.

*

-

*

Ultros and _Final Fantasy VI_ are owned by Square-Enix.

The Ents and _The Lord of the Rings_ were created by J.R.R. Tolkien and are currently owned by his estate.


	12. III ii

King Macbeth

"And you just left him there?" said Giles. "Alone?"

"Not alone, per say," said Buffy. "There was a sword in his head."

Giles removed his glasses and cleaned them. "Buffy, that was very careless of you."

"Look, I could've stayed there all day, but it wouldn't have done any good," said Buffy. "Stabbing him didn't work. As far as I know, lightning was my only chance."

"Well, let's hope it worked," said Gunn. "We don't want this thing killing more innocent people because the Slayer was scared of it."

"Excuse me?" said Buffy. "Scared? I just didn't want to stand around working at it for eight hours while putting up with catcalls and verbal abuse when I have more important things to do. God knows I got enough of that at the Doublemeat Palace."

"What you 'want' to do isn't what's important," said Gunn. "You messed up."

"Well, patience has never been her strong suit," said Giles. "But fighting each other isn't going to solve anything. And we really shouldn't be too hard on Buffy. Even if she had killed this creature, the First Evil could replace it on the spot. It's Macbeth I'm more worried about. Each murder he commits brings him one step further down his path to evil, and closer to the inevitable fall at the end. I don't see this Ultros character making that problem any worse. If he did survive—and he shows up again—we'll just have to kill him then."

"I'll handle that part," said Gunn. "I used to be a lawyer, so I can handle long hours."

"Seriously," said Buffy. "Would you please shut the f—"

The door suddenly opened.

"Thine protection is needed naught," said Macbeth.

"What?" said Gunn. "Why not? I thought you were impressed by us."

"Thou skills are good, and strength unmatched," said Macbeth. "Yet guards need more than soldiers' tools. For Angel, blades are not a threat. 'Tis fear that keeps a foe at bay, and vampires fear, above all, flames."

"Flames?" said Giles. "What are you… oh, no."

Two more figured stepped into the room, each wearing familiar red armor. The two men eyed the Scoobies up maliciously, and, though there was a certain sense of relief in the familiarity, the feeling was mutual.

"Those are Fire Nation soldiers," said Gunn.

"Indeed they were," said Macbeth. "But wherefore doth thou care?"

"We don't trust the Fire Nation," said Giles. "We have our reasons."

"Tis' nonsense," responded Macbeth. "Think thee peoples are So evil? Nay; just persons sin."

"Right," said Giles. "And since that is so out of character, I'm going to guess that you're trying to convince yourself."

"Don't think I'll suffer traitors lightly, Giles," said Macbeth. "I'm King, and need an army's might To bulwark 'gainst rebels and wars."

"That much is true," said Giles, "But…well, there's a saying where I come from. Power corrupts; absolute power corrupts absolutely."

"Thy wit is great," said Macbeth, "yet knowledge weak. These men shall stay. Yet thou may leave."

"No, that won't be necessary," said Giles, removing his glasses and polishing them. Macbeth then stormed out of the room, the Fire Nation soldiers following closely behind. Giles turned to Buffy. "I guess we've been demoted to the field."

"Any ideas now?"

"One," said Giles, slowly putting his glasses back on. "Keep an eye on Lady Macbeth."

*

A lone messenger ran into Macduff's castle. Lady Macduff sat in a chair, and her son at her feet.

"Bless you, fair dame! I am not to you known," he said, "Though in your state of honor I am perfect. I doubt some danger does approach—"

A bright flash of fire knocked the messenger to the ground, where he lay still. A Fire Nation soldier strolled almost casually into the room. He was middle-aged, and had sideburns extending down both sides of his face. This gave him an almost monkey-like appearance, a sort of bestial yet intelligent quality. He was followed behind by several more of Macbeth's red-suited soldiers, who promptly grabbed and restrained both Macduffs.

"Where's Macduff?" said the leader.

"I hope, in no place so unsanctified Where such as thou mayst find him," responded Lady Macduff.

The man turned to her son, and his hand began to glow. "Tell me, or your son dies."

"As young as that, and thou'd destroy?" said Lady Macduff.

He shrugged. "I'm hoping you'll tell me what I need to know first, but if it comes to that…"

A tiny spec of fire shot from his fingertip, landing on the child's face. The boy gave a sharp scream and struggled, but the other soldiers wouldn't even let him move an inch to brush the ember off.

"Stop! Murderer! I know not where my husband went!" shouted Lady Macduff. "He abandoned his family to his fears!"

"Really?" said the leader. "Well, that's too bad. It would be horrible for you to die because of your husband's cowardice."

"I thank you, sir," said Lady Macduff.

"Why? I never said I'm not horrible." A bright ball of fire began to grow from his hand, which he pointed at Macduff's son.

*

"Macduff's family is dead," said Giles.

Once Admiral Zhao, the man in charge of Macbeth's Fire Nation soldiers (or Firebenders, as they are called in their own world), had become Macbeth's new favorite, and the Firebenders began swooping through every room, there was no safe place for Buffy and her companions to talk in the whole castle. Fortunately, Macbeth was so enamoured with his new Firebenders that he stopped paying any attention to the Scoobie Gang, and they were able to arrange group meetings outside his border with ease and frequency. Due to the increasingly treasonous directions their conversations would soon take, Giles asked Willow to transport the group to England before delivering this news.

"That's horrible," said Gunn. "But I still don't get what the First Evil is planning to gain from giving the guy it's trying to kill an army of human torches."

"Maybe Admiral Zhao is just trying to get close to Macbeth?" said Willow. "So that he can, you know, kill him?"

"Possible," said Giles, "but I don't think that's the First Evil's only plan. Shakespeare has shown that Macbeth's greatest weakness is power. The more power he has, the less likely he is to repent."

"So even if this army _does_ keep Macbeth alive until he dies of old age," said Buffy, "he'll still be dead of old age, and the Battery's gone."

"But this is just the backup," said Illyria. "Reinforcements in case the other assassinations fail. The First Evil will still try to kill Macbeth sooner. The only difference is that, this way, it knows that it'll win eventually, even if Macbeth isn't killed before his time."

"No, it only thinks that," said Buffy. "Anyone can be redeemed."

"You're being optimistic to the point of foolishness," said Illyria.

"Well, realism isn't going to get us anywhere," said Buffy.

"Maybe I can help!" said Willow. "I might be able to cast a spell that would make him feel remorse."

"Good," said Giles. "Now, Charles. I have a job for you, as well. I'm afraid that it might be a bit dangerous."

"Lay it on me," said Gunn.

"When the war starts, you'll need to lure Macbeth off the battlefield, then keep him locked up."

"That's all? I've been pulling more dangerous stuff than that since I was still in high school."

"What about me?" said Buffy.

"You should stay on Macbeth's good side," said Giles. "We'll need you to protect him."

*

At first, living in the woods was fine. It was like camping, but with someone you hate instead of a beloved family. But, after a few weeks, Angel grew sick of camping and decided to start taking frequent trips into nearby towns and pubs, hoping to learn something about Macbeth. Despite what he assumed to be Buffy's best efforts, Macbeth did not improve, and it became obvious that the war was still approaching. Then Angel thought back to the Ents, so he and Xander tracked them down to ask about their plans regarding the war.

"We have been speaking for a long time," said Treebeard, "and have decided that we shall go to war against the Scottish King."

This comment was hardly a welcoming subject for a catch-up conversation.

"But you can't," said Xander.

"This was not a decision we made hastily," said the Ent. "There was a time when we would have let the men settle their own disputes, but this is no longer possible. Already, we have lost several Ents to the Firebenders."

"No, you literally can't!" said Xander. "If Macbeth dies, the world goes with him. All of them. Even Middle-earth."

"You are either mistaken or lying," said Treebeard. "We have been alive as long as the world itself, and we understand its workings as well as anyone does. Had the world's existence rested on the life of one man, we would know."

"You have to listen to us!" said Angel. "Okay, I know what we're saying sounds stupid, but… yeah, okay."

"Look. I don't think you should be so hasty about this." said Xander. "There will be another war soon. That other country… what was it, again? England?"

"Yeah," said Angel.

"Right. England will be going to war. Shouldn't you wait until they attack?"

Angel called Xander an idiot under his breath. But it was too late to stop him.

"The men would contribute little to our effort," said Treebeard.

"Maybe, maybe not," said Xander. "But you know what? When a walking forest is going up against an army of walking matches, it's probably a good idea to have some backup."

"Indeed, the fire magic has been of great concern to us. But what could the men do to help? Are you fire-proof in this world?"

"Not so much," said Xander. "But the superior numbers will help, right?"

"I do not wish for more men to die than is necessary," said Treebeard. "If England does plan to fight, then perhaps we should be a little hastier?"

"No!" said Angel. "That won't be necessary. Macbeth is just worried because he thinks the prophecy means that you're going to kill him. If you stay out of his way, try to hide a bit more, he'll think you've all been killed, and he'll leave you alone. No one else will die. We'll take care of everything else for you."

"If you can do so without costing more Ents their lives, you will have our support," said Treebeard. "However, I suggest you make haste. If any more Ents are endangered, we shall be forced to fight."

"Fine," said Angel. "In the mean time, try to play defensively."

"We will do what we can," said the Ent. "But any of Macbeth's soldiers found near Birnam Wood will be killed."

Xander and Angel didn't answer, instead heading straight for the parts of the woods nearest the castle, both thinking as they ran about how they could sneak in. It was still daylight, but the leaves in this area were thick, so Angel had plenty of shade to hide in.

"By the way, almost making the Ents and English team up was a great strategy," said Angel. "As if that bastard wasn't in enough danger."

"But it would have bought us time, right? Besides, it's not like your ideas are so great."

"Keeping my mouth shut _is_ a better idea than giving the enemy advice!" said Angel. "And we do _not_ need a deadline. Macbeth is going to take a very long time to redeem, and our only chance is to keep him alive for a very long time. That stunt might have bought us time at first, but, before long, we'd be in even worse shape than before. At least if the Ents and England aren't working together, they might get in each other's way."

"I… well, I don't think it would have mattered," said Xander. "If the Fire Nation is working for Macbeth, then I don't think he was in too much danger. Frankly, I'd be more worried if we were _trying_ to kill him."

"That's true," said Angel. "But you're still an idiot."

"Well, I may be an idiot," said Xander, "but I'm a sunlight-retardant idiot."

Angel glared at Xander. "I'm not letting you run off and get yourself cremated. We have enough to worry about."

"So I get kidnapped by _one_ evil count, and suddenly I'm damsel-in-distress guy?"

"Would you rather be flaming-corpse guy?"

"I'd rather be gets-off-his-ass-and-does-something guy."

"I'll repeat myself. I'm not letting you run off and get yourself cremated."

"Really?" Xander stepped a few feet away from the nearest tree, out of Angel's grasp. The vampire reached for him, then quickly withdrew his burning arm from the sun.

"Don't be stupid, Xander!"

"Oh? And what are you going to do? Burn up menacingly?"

Angel crossed his arms. The war wasn't going to start for a while, and Xander wouldn't have anything stupid to do until then. But he was right. Nothing short of tying him up would stop Xander from doing whatever he liked, with the sun as his bodyguard.

*

Of course, Macbeth maintained as much influence now as in the original timeline. The Fire Nation was plentiful, and, as much as she wished she could fight against them, Buffy was unable to make one move without jeopardizing Macbeth's trust. The tyranny continued. Throughout all the months of work, our group was able to make only one notable change: Giles, by conveniently placing himself in the right place at the right time, was able to find Lady Macbeth during her attempted suicide.

"Don't stay my death!" she shrieked, trying to pull her dagger back from Giles' grip. "Know you not that My life has naught but pain and guilt?"

"I know," said Giles. "But you'll have to trust me when I say that killing yourself will only make things worse."

"Perhaps for some, but not for me," said Lady Macbeth.

"Maybe, but what about everybody else?" said Giles. "I can't let you die. So, as I see it, you now have a choice. You can either go about things the easy way or the hard way. That's a bit of a cliché where I come from, but I think my point is clear."

Lady Macbeth stared at Giles. Then she dove for the dagger in his hand, but Giles outmaneuvered and restrained her.

She immediately screamed, "Unhand me, fiend!"

Immediately, several guards barged into the room.

"What goes here, now?"

"The Lady was trying to commit suicide," said Giles.

"The queen tried what?" said the guard.

"Suicide. I suggest you lock her up."

The guards turned to Lady Macbeth. "Is that the truth?"

"Alas, 'tis true," said Lady Macbeth. "All Meaning's left My life, and only shame remains."

"'Tis not that bad, milady. Thou art queen."

"Aye, Queen. And Satan King! Now mine own life cannot relieve this lot."

"And what do you think will happen if you die?" said Giles. "Macbeth will learn the error of his ways and resign? Don't fool yourself. If you die, Macbeth will get worse, and you'll be bringing a lot of people down with you."

"The cost is deep," said Lady Macbeth, "but worth the price."

"Well, if you're going to be a brat," said Giles, then turned to the guards. "If you don't want to bring Macbeth's wrath down upon your heads, you'd better lock Lady Macbeth up and make sure she can't hurt herself. Keep an eye on her at all times."

"Thou would not dare!" said Lady Macbeth.

"The choice's naught ours," said the guard. Both of the soldiers then grabbed Lady Macbeth and dragged her off towards the castle prison.

*

Even so, removing this one straw did not save the camel. There was a war approaching, and Macbeth's power and ambition kept growing. It looked like he would never become the martyr everyone needed.

Soon, Buffy and friends found themselves standing in the field, awaiting Britain.

Angel joined the English Army, hoping to save Macbeth from the enemy's side, and had managed to rise high in the ranks. Eventually, he was given the task of killing Macbeth himself, which he happily pretended to accept.

Xander, meanwhile, had shown up at Dunsinane, disguised as one of Macbeth's soldiers. Whenever one of his friends tried to ask him if this was safe or what the hell he was thinking, he'd simply argue that, without any type of photography in this era, and with everyone that saw Angel try to kill Macbeth now either dead or also trying to kill Macbeth, he'd remain safe from recognition by anyone but Macbeth himself, who he could dodge with a helmet that 'strategically covers the face.'

But he was AWOL from the actual army, preferring to instead sneak into the castle.

Buffy looked up at the sun, peaking menacingly out from between some dark clouds. She hoped Angel would be able to explain to the English why he was going to spend the entire day indoors when he should be fighting.

"I fear no men of England's might," said Macbeth. "Yet trees aren't born of women's womb. Be sure to burn their roots to ash, Lest witches' words invoke my death."

"Don't worry," said Admiral Zhao. "We'll burn every last tree to the ground before we let one lay a branch on you." He then glanced at Buffy. "Buffy. You're pretty strong. I'm going to send you ahead as a scout. Try to figure out how many Ents we're dealing with."

"I don't think so," said Buffy.

Zhao frowned and faced Macbeth. "You're Majesty, the soldiers don't appear to be following my orders."

"The admiral has full command In maters such as these. Obey His word, or die before my sword."

Buffy clenched her fists, but smiled. "Sure thing, commander."

Then she turned and headed off into the woods. She would have liked nothing more than to give him the finger before disappearing, but that might make it difficult to stay close to Macbeth, so she had to settle for imagining all the fun things she'd do to him once she "discovered" his plans to kill the king.

*

"Excuse me, Mr. Macbeth," said Gunn.

"Mine hands are full, so kindly leave," said the king.

"But this is important," said Gunn. "It's a new weapon."

"Did Banquo bring another gift?"

"Uhh… sure," said Gunn.

Macbeth seethed his sword and followed Gunn back into the castle. He hoped the 'weapon's' location wouldn't seem too suspicious.

"It's in the dungeon," said Gunn.

"'Tis strange he'd keep the weapon there," said Macbeth.

Gunn stood aside to let Macbeth into the cell, then closed the door behind both of them. Macbeth didn't know he was being imprisoned until Xander, emerging from behind, already had his knife to the man's throat. Before Macbeth could get over the indignation and think to fight back, Gunn disarmed him. Soon, he was chained up.

"You locked a man inside his keep?" screamed Macbeth. "The guards, the men, all will release My royal self, upon my call. Unchain me, fiend, and leave the prize!"

"Prize?" said Xander incredulously. "I thought you Shakespearean guys were supposed to be smart."

"And I thought humans were!" said a voice from behind.

The door to the cell was smashed open. Before Gunn could turn around, he felt himself lifted into the air by two powerful tentacles. Two more—these ones, he saw, were purple—passed under him and pulled Macbeth's chains out of the wall.

"There you go, kingy," said the voice from behind. "Free as a Gardua."

"Hey!" shouted Xander. "Freeing the king isn't nice!"

"I thank your arms for freeing mine," said Macbeth. "Thou shall be paid thy weight in gold."

As Macbeth left, Gunn could feel both arms being pulled outwards. Suddenly, he felt something strong and hard smash down on both of them. Everything else that happened during the next few minutes was dulled by the explosion of pain.

He could see Illyria walk into the room and tell the octopus not to hurt Xander because he was her lover. Ultros dropped Gunn and turned to her. He—Ultros, that is—seemed unfrightened, but impressed that Illyria was talking to him. He began to pucker his lips and smack them at Illyria—or did that even happen?—but then Illyria grabbed Ultros' tongue and tore it out. Ultros screamed, if the memory is accurate, and cupped his limbs over his mouth. Then Illyria grabbed several of his tentacles and shoved them down the giant's throat. The whole front of the creature's face was stuffed, and it was obviously suffocating.

Then Illyria turned around, transforming into Fred as she did, and began to kiss Xander from a body that was not her own.

At this point, Gunn was awake enough to get enraged. "What the hell's going on?"

Xander turned to Gunn, seemingly oblivious to his crime. "Sorry. We haven't gotten around to telling anyone yet."

"Haven't got around to telling them what? That you're taking advantage of Fred?"

"Hey! She came on to _me_."

"No, Illyria came onto you. Fred's dead, and Illyria used her essence to whore herself off to you."

Xander looked at Gunn with concern. He didn't know what he had done, but was beginning to sense how horrible it was. "What?"

"You heard me. Fred died, and Illyria's essence took over her body, and absorbed her memories. She's in Fred's body, and using Fred's personality, but she's not Fred."

"I didn't know about Fred," said Xander. "If I knew that wasn't her body, I never would have slept with Illyria."

Illyria's eyes flickered with pain, but that was nothing compared to Gunn's reaction.

"Slept with? You raped her?"

"No, I did _not_ rape her!" said Xander, his voice now less apologetic, more harsh. "I had consensual sex with Illyria, who had, apparently, been in someone else's body without telling me. And if you weren't so busy masturbating to your own angst, maybe you'd realize that not everyone was competing to do the most horrible thing to you."

Gunn shook his head. "Whatever. I have bigger fish to fight now." Gunn stood, slowly, to his feet, then turned to face Xander. "But this isn't over."

"You are in no condition to fight," said Illyria. "Your arms are broken, and you are too angry to think straight."

"My legs are still fine," said Gunn. "And, losing those, my teeth will work."

"You're being dumb," said Xander.

"No, I'm being the good guy," said Gunn. "Besides, if I die here, at least I can look forward to some sort of a real afterlife, and, maybe, other people will get to live. But if Macbeth dies because I gave in too soon, everyone loses. Even me. So as long as I'm still conscious…"

Xander picked a large chunk of the broken door off the ground and swung. He connected to Gunn's head, knocking the weakened man to the ground. On the ground Gunn rested, as unmoving as a child and, Xander hoped, as safe as one.

"Okay," said Xander. "Help me take the spikes out of this iron maiden. Then Gunn should be safe there."

"Are you sure he's still alive?" said Illyria, lifting Gunn with one arm.

"Of course," said Xander. "Head trauma's only fatal on TV. In our world, it just knocks people out." But Xander quickly checked Gunn's pulse as Illyria prepared the iron maiden.

*

Buffy glared eerily at a nearby tree, but its branches didn't move.

That one wasn't an Ent.

"Well, this is pleasant," said Buffy. "At least I won't know when I'm about to get squished."

Buffy began to wonder, when a tree attacks someone in the woods, does it make a sound?

She looked back over her shoulder. None of those trees were moving, either.

"How can a big freakin' tree be so hard to find?" she said.

Then, a sudden bolt of lightening split a nearby tree. She hadn't noticed the thunder before, since the Ents occupied most of her thoughts, but she realized now that the storm was a threat. It could distract her senses.

Guided by fear and fate, Buffy turned around. She barely had time to roll aside, just missing the fist of a surly maple.

"You will not harm any more trees," said the Ent.

"No, I won't," said Buffy. "But I won't let you harm the king, either."

"You speak as if that were within your authority," said the Ent. "You are outmatched in both size and number. What weapon could you wield against us?"

"Simple," said Buffy. "Deforestation." She then reached out, grabbing a nearby tree's branch. "If you and all the others don't leave, I'll destroy this tree, and every other tree I find in the forest."

Then the tree just laughed. "I care not for these dumb, lifeless trees. They do not possess the life of Middle-earth."

"They don't?" said Buffy. "Oh." She let go of the branch, then began to run back towards the castle. The Ent's thunderous footsteps followed, slowly gaining on her.

At that moment, another wave of stomps began to mix in with the first. A second Ent, this one resembling a pine, stepped out in front. With only seconds to react, Buffy did the first thing that popped into her brain, which was to dive under the pine's legs, roll, and leap back onto her feet behind it. She heard a loud crunch behind as the two giants collided.

"I guess seeing Home Alone 2 wasn't such a bad thing after all," she said to herself. She then stopped running and looked down at the giant flag that was her Fire Nation uniform. "Yikes. I haven't been this concerned about finding a new set of clothes since I was in High School." Buffy looked both ways. "What am I doing? I don't really have to count the Ents in this forest. If I just make up a really big number, Macbeth'll realize he doesn't stand a chance and leave his castle. Then, with his power gone, we can start the healing process."

So Buffy turned back towards Macbeth's castle, Dunsinane, wondering whether they'd believe two thousand five hundred and thirty-eight.

*

"Why should I take your words as true?" asked Malcolm.

"I don't expect you to," said Angel. "But I was hoping that would work eventually." Apparently, the English didn't believe in the Macbeth-induced apocalypse, either.

"Methinks these men aren't friends of ours," said young Siward. "Perhaps we should arrest them now."

"We can't," said Macduff. "I've seen his strength before, And fighting him would cost us much. We should not clash lest forced to arms."

"So long as justice slays Macbeth, I'll let these knaves do as they will."

Angel looked up at the spots of light on the ground. Then he looked at his watch. It wasn't in sync with this Universe's time, but he had earlier made a mental note that, this time of year, the sun usually set in this world around "5:40 PM."

Angel leaned back against the tree and continued to stare at his watch. It was "4:07." now.

*

"Really?" said Admiral Zhao doubtfully. "All in that one forest?"

"Well, they're giant trees," said Buffy. "They kinda _are_ the forest."

"So every tree in the forest is alive and planning to kill Macbeth?" he said.

"Sure," she said. "I mean… look at those trees. Don't they look pretty shifty?"

"Oh, they sure do," said Zhao. He then pointed his hand towards the woods. Buffy realized instantly what she had done, and jumped on Zhao. But it didn't do any good. There were hundreds of other Fire Nation soldiers present, and they each threw a fireball into the forest. Soon, there was a massive inferno. Each tree lit up like a candlewick, and their flames fed and were fed by the heat coming from the surrounding timber. The little of the sky that was visible from behind the smoke turned a bright orange, as if it would burst into flames itself. Buffy knew that anything living in that forest would suffocate, and the wooden residents would be burnt to cinders. She could only sit and watch, trying to desperately convince herself that Zhao would have done that even if she said the forest was empty. But no matter how long she'd live, Buffy would never be able to believe that.

"The lady traitor's wings have shown," said Macbeth.

"Wings?" said Buffy. "What the hell does that mean?"

"A wing's a limb which Succubae—"

"Ah," said Buffy. "So now I'm a _demonic_ whore. Terrific. But, tell me, are you really planning to get rid of your best soldier? I think that, with the British coming, you'll still need me."

"I need but one," said Macbeth, motioning to Admiral Zhao. "And you're not he."

Buffy tried to think of a response, but with all the Firebenders glaring at her, their hands burning, she knew that staying there wasn't an option. She wouldn't survive long enough to protect Macbeth, and her presence might even distract him.

So, lowering her eyes to avoid anyone's gaze, the Slayer did the only thing she could think of. She ran off.

*

Lady Macbeth saw a sliver of light open on the door at the other side, and a pair of glass-covered eyes peeked in.

"I know that you're probably not in the mood to help, but if you ignore me, a lot of people will die. If you agree, however, we may be able to do some real good."

"I've heard your tale, but trust it not."

"I don't care if you believe me about the First Evil or not, but you can't deny that talking Macbeth out of this war would help."

"He caused much harm, I can't deny. Yet warriors, too, welcome peace. The war will end when he is killed."

"And you might be able to convince him to do just that."

Lady Macbeth wasn't sure that was worth responding to. "To speak of death as such! 'Tis not A thing one does for one who'd ask!"

"You can get him to do it," said Giles. "You did talk him into killing Duncan."

Lady Macbeth remained silent for several seconds. "I'll speak with him, though likely fail."

"I think you'll help more than you think," said Giles. There was a jingle of keys from the other side of the door, and it swung open. Giles walked in and undid Lady Macbeth's shackles. Weakened, she collapsed into the former guard's arms.

"Now, let's go."

Lady Macbeth immediately grabbed Giles' sword and stabbed herself through the gut with it.

"The Nightmare's done, now rest shall come," she said with her last breath, then fell to the ground.

"Oh, bloody hell!" said Giles.

*

Willow pulled a book out of the shelf and let it fall to the bookmark she had placed in it months before. This was later than she would have liked to start casting the spell, but she needed to find all the proper ingredients first, and that took time.

"Well," said Spike, "let's get this over with before Macduff shows off a non-medical advantage to the cesarean section."

"Right," said Willow. "Let's see, here." She then began to recite something in Latin, and a pink aura surrounded her body. Spike suddenly felt very guilty for everything he had done, but the remorse seemed to pass over his body and grow, as if the emotions were coming from an external source. It was something you had to feel to understand, and even then it was hard to grasp.

"It's working," he said.

Then, a bolt of lightning tore the page out of the book.

"No it's not!" said Willow.

There was another lightning strike, and a middle-aged woman dressed entirely in black appeared, then threw a ball of fire at Willow. The young witch only narrowly dodged it. Spike leapt at the woman, but she stopped him in mid-air by merely raising her hand.

"You think that fate is like a road, That man can change so pains corrode?" said Hecate. "Thou think that spells can beat the odds Of paths set forth by greater Gods?" She then waved her hand, causing Spike to spasm with a sharp in pain in his chest and heart. "Were arrogance the same as might, thou might have lived beyond tonight."

"But if we don't…" started Willow.

"The worlds shall cease and darkness reign," said Hecate. "Yet wherefore fear? _I_ shan't be slain."

Willow raised her hand towards Hecate and released a small ball of fire. Hecate turned to slap it aside. At that same moment, Spike fell from her invisible grip. He promptly grabbed a chair and swung, crushing Hecate between it and a bookshelf. She fell to the ground, bleeding, and Spike tilted the bookshelf over, crashing it down on top of her.

"Ding dong and all that," he muttered. "What now?"

Willow picked up the spell book. Several pages of charred paper fell out. "Pray."

*

Ironic, thought Angel, how the same massive umbrella of a smoke cloud that would have suffocated any human merely shielded him from the sunlight. Better yet, the wind was blowing in just the right way to stretch the ever-increasing cloud away from the forest fire and towards the castle, while storm clouds were beginning to form and block off the remaining traces of sunlight.

The distance wasn't much, given all the ground he'd covered in the fire, but seemed lengthened by the obstacle course of fighting soldiers. The swords didn't bother him too much, but he knew that the flames shooting out of everyone's hands would be a big problem. Especially since, thanks to his uniform, the Firebenders saw him as an enemy.

Fortunately, Macbeth's army was big, so most of the soldiers didn't leave their own opponent to chase Angel. They figured that someone else would catch him.

When Angel finally arrived at the castle, he saw Macbeth fighting with another man.

"Macduff!" said Angel.

"With thy keen sword impress as make me bleed," said Macbeth. "Let fall thy blade on vulnerable crests; I bear a charmed life, which must not yield To one of woman born."

"Despair thy charm," responded Macduff, "And let the angel whom thou still hast served Tell thee, Macduff was from his mother's womb Untimely ripp'd."

Without thinking, Angel kicked Macduff's sword from his hand. Macduff turned to Angel and punched him in the face.

"Thy villainy hath gone too far," shouted Macduff, eyeing up Angel and reaching down for the handle of his sword. He didn't see Macbeth approaching from behind.

"Look out!" shouted Angel. "Behind you!"

Then, in a moment, Macduff's head fell off. His limp body tumbled to the ground almost comically. Macbeth stood over the corpse, smiling as his would-be executioner sprawled out in an ever-growing pool of his own blood. Angel desperately wished he could lift the man back up and send him home, but he knew he couldn't. He'd made another mistake he could never redeem himself for.

At this moment, Giles arrived upon the scene, panting heavily.

"Lady Macbeth is dead," he said between breaths. Then he saw Macduff. "And isn't alone. Angel, how the hell did this happen?"

"I was trying to stop Macduff from killing Macbeth," said Angel, "and I guess it didn't work out."

"That's putting it mildly," said Giles.

"Macduff is dead, and I alive," said Macbeth. "Now who will stand against my might?"

But no one expected to hear the familiar voice that gave the response:

"I could give you a list, if you'd like."

Angel turned towards the voice. There, dressed in a blinding green robe, stood Ty Lee.

"But I won't," she said. "Because I think it would just depress you."

"Thou threaten death upon my crown?" shouted Macbeth.

"No, of course not," said Ty Lee. "The guys I'm thinking of wouldn't hurt a fly. But there could be others. I mean, when you're dealing with an unlimited number of universes, there's got to be about a million billion guys that can break that loophole."

"The king is perfectly safe," said Admiral Zhao.

Upon hearing his voice, Ty Lee looked at Zhao in surprise. "Zhao! I haven't seen you since that mishap in the Northern Water Tribe. Did you really try to destroy the moon?"

"I _did_ destroy the moon," he responded.

"Oh, yeah. You know, I'm not sure Ozai would have been too happy with you going over his head like that. That isn't a habit of yours, is it?"

"What are you implying?" said Zhao. "I can't hurt the King. It's against the prophecy."

"Yeah, that's true," said Ty Lee. "Though, you are dead, right?"

"Do I look dead?" said Zhao.

"No, you don't," conceded Ty Lee. "But you know what my friend Glinda pointed out? Your body should look a lot worse after lying at the bottom of the sea for so long. You didn't get a new one, did you?"

"And what if I did?"

"Well, it looks _so_ much like your own body, it must have been tailor-made for you. Probably through magic. Kind of like, you know, your new body was not of woman born. Hey! Isn't that funny?"

"Not woman born?" said Macbeth. He then raise his sword and swung at Zhao. "Then now, you die!"

But Zhao leapt aside and knocked Macbeth on his back with a blast of fire. Zhao then thrust his hand, open-palmed, towards Macbeth's chest.

Just then, there was a loud crack, and Zhao fell to the ground.

"Sorry I'm late." announced Xander. He poked the admiral's limp head with his own foot, then dropped the branch he was holding. Zhao didn't move. "Oops. I… was just trying to knock him out."

"Don't worry," said Giles. "He had it coming."

Macbeth, despite the red burns across his now bare chest, was able to push himself to his feet by leaning against his blade. "You think that, short one guard, my life Will forfeit? God couldn't bring such fate."

"Is that what you think?" said Ty Lee. "Because, it seems to me that I already told you that there are hundreds of people that could. And don't think they won't come. The First Evil lifted my entire country _and_ manipulated my best friend into almost destroying the universe. If there is anyone out there that can stop you now, the First Evil will find them. But I can help."

"Then help you should," said Macbeth. "I'll give rewards That Midas'd wish for every day!"

"Oh, don't worry," said Ty Lee. "I've got everything I'll ever need already. All you have to do is put on this ring."

Ty Lee pulled a small ring out of her pocket. It had a bright, emerald-green band, but that hardly stood out compared to the diamond, which seemed to shine with its own light source, far surpassing the sun itself. But the stone's glitter didn't blind. Indeed, no one could take his or her eyes off the jewel.

"That's pretty," said Angel. "I mean… for a diamond."

"Tis like a star encased in stone," said Macbeth.

"A nebula, actually," said Ty Lee. "And Ozma made it 'specially for you."

"How romantic," mumbled Giles.

"Oh, that's not it!" said Ty Lee. "No, this is a special ring! If Macbeth wears it, he'll become immortal!"

Macbeth's eyes seemed to light up as much as the ring's glow. "Can this be true? Eternal life?"

"Oh, it's true," said Ty Lee. "As long as you wear this ring, nothing can kill you. Absolutely, super-positively nothing."

Then Ty Lee flipped the ring towards Macbeth. He grabbed it greedily out of the air, then slipped it over his finger. The change, although not physical, was apparent; Macbeth no longer knew fear. As his courage and resolve grew, so did his presence and forcefulness. The burns healed themselves instantly, and Macbeth could now stand tall, without the support of his sword. All the malice in the human soul seemed to pour from his eyes.

"My reign insured, my reach will grow! England is small; the world is mine."

"Glad you like it," said Ty Lee. "And the best part is, no one, ever, can take it off you, except you. This is important." Smiling impishly, the girl threw off her robe. Beneath it was the same pinking-red suit she had worn before, but with one difference.

She was wearing Ozma's Magic Belt.

As Macbeth ignored her, absorbed in his own ambitions, Ty Lee waved her hand and recited a magic word. The Scottish king's apparently solidified glee turned to fear. A rip, big and red, tore itself open in the very air behind him. His body tilted backwards, then slid into the portal as if on a conveyer belt. The portal closed, leaving behind a smell something like a combination of smoke and rice.

"Where did he go?" asked Giles.

"Here's a hint," said Ty Lee. "It starts with a 'H,' ends with an 'L,' and has two other letters in the middle."

"You sent him to Hell!?'" said Xander.

"One of them," said Ty Lee. "But don't worry. He'll be safe until you find him. Unless he takes off the ring, in which case he'd die. But, as far as he knows, he'd just end up back there anyway. As long as he keeps the ring on, he has hope. Trust me, he won't want to give that up."

"But we _need_ him," said Giles. "We can't just work with a few of the Bearers. We need all seven."

"He'll be fine," responded Ty Lee.

One of the Fire Nation soldiers stepped forward. "Er… Ms. Ty Lee, ma'am?"

Ty Lee smiled towards the soldier. "Yes, Lieutenant Jee?"

"I was hoping you could send us home now."

"Of course I will." Then, with a second wave of her hand, Ty Lee sent the entire Fire Nation back to its own country. She then winked at Xander before waving her hand a third time and vanishing herself.

"Well, we're screwed," said Spike.

"Unless we go to Hell too," said Xander.

"He's right," said Angel. "And the sooner, the better. I still remember my visit! It was better than Six Flags."

"Fine, so I didn't think killing a twelve year old girl was a good idea," said Xander. "So sue me. At least he'll be as safe as… Gunn!"

"Gunn's not exactly… wait, where the hell _is_ Gunn?" said Angel.

"Oh, shoot," said Xander. "I locked him in an iron maiden in the dungeon."

"Okay," said Angel. "You have five seconds to elaborate before I kill you."

"He had both his arms broken by a giant octopus, but still wanted to fight. He would have gotten himself killed if I didn't."

"Now there's a giant octopus, too?"

"Ultros is dead now," said Illyria. "But we should still remove Gunn from the container before we leave. He would die without food."

So they made their way quickly through the palace. With Macbeth and the Firebenders gone, passage through the castle was simple, and they soon stepped into the dungeon.

"I left him there," said Xander, pointing to the iron maiden.

Angel swept across the room and opened the door. When he did, Gunn fell to the ground with a loud thump. Angel turned his body over, and found a large knife sticking from his chest. The worst part was that he had seen this happen so much, he was almost getting used to it. It had felt like Gunn had been on borrowed time since this adventure began, and his death had always seemed inevitable. Even dulled, though, the pain was unbearable.

"You bastard!" Angel ran at Xander, but Illyria and Giles moved to restrain him. All the while, Xander could only stare at the body, seemingly oblivious to anything and everything else.

"I didn't want to do that," said Xander. "We fought, but I didn't want to kill him!"

"You locked him in an iron maiden!"

"I thought he'd be safe. I thought it was the right thing to do."

"Well, I guess that well-meaning stupidity isn't as helpful as we thought."

Xander wanted to answer, but his tongue was failing him. He could barely think, but, before he knew it, he had landed a fist to Angel's nose. Angel continued struggling, more frantically now, but Illyria and Giles still wouldn't let go.

"Xander!" shouted Willow.

"Now, don't fight," said Wesley. "We always knew Xander would have to falter sometime. Most of us did."

"Wesley!?" said Giles. "You're here?"

Angel stopped struggling and lowered his head. "Wesley's dead," he said.

"Quite right," said the First Evil. "As is Gunn. And more of you will be in the coming months. I may have lost the battle, but I've won the war. I am still at full power. You are not."

And in another minute, the apparition was gone.


	13. Silverlock Castle 3

At Silverlock Castle, Part 3

Having finally dropped the last of the Scoobies off at Silverlock Castle, Square disappeared without so much as a word to the gang.

Not that they noticed.

"I already apologised for Ultros, like, a million times," said Buffy. "How many more times do I need to say it before you shut up?"

"Depends," said Angel. "How many more times will it take to bring Gunn back?"

"Please stop trying to antagonise her," said Giles. "You won't fix things that way. Besides, other mistakes have been made here."

"You mean like when Buffy ran off?"

"And let you near Macduff? Not specifically what I was getting at, no."

"Then I assume you're talking about Xander being born."

"You should stop blaming Xander," said Illyria. "Gunn himself got Fred killed by smuggling my sarcophagus into Wolfram and Hart, but you forgave him for that."

"Wolfram and Hart?" shouted Giles. "That's where Gunn worked?"

"Oh my God! Fred's dead?" said Willow.

"Yeah," said Angel, suddenly turning on Willow. "I guess now you know why Illyria looks exactly like her, don't you?"

"Hey! Leave Willow alone!" said Xander. "You can put me down if you want, but Willow didn't do anything."

"He's right," said Spike. "Couldn't even guard her spell book." He'd regret that a second later, but he was under too much stress to think clearly, and figured that would be the best way to hurt Xander.

"Excuse me," said Willow. "I believe that reading the spell book was my job, and guarding it yours. And, besides, Xander did stop the war. And he didn't get anyone killed doing it. And as for what happened to Gunn," she said, more shyly now, "well, that's horrible. But it isn't all Xander's fault. It sounds like Gunn was being sorta reckless."

"So you're saying he deserved to die?" said Angel.

"Of course not," said Willow quietly. "I just meant that, maybe if Gunn hadn't been quite so careless with his life…"

"A lot of heroes are careless with their lives," said Angel. "It takes someone different to be careless with other peoples'."

"That's not fair," said Buffy. "Xander is a great man. Can you imagine what it takes to do what he does, without any powers?"

"More courage than hearts or brains, if you ask me," said Spike. "If this lion would stay out of the line of fire, then our super-powered selves wouldn't have to waste precious attention on him. And I still say that it's his fault that Ty Lee chick took Macbeth."

"Well, she might have saved us," said Giles. "I'm no fan of Ozma's politics, but she seems to get stuff done. Maybe we'll find Macbeth in one piece, and the torture will make him more redeemable. It certainly couldn't hurt at this point."

"You think bad guys become nice after you torture them?" said Angel. "Sorry, but not in my experience. And I have something else to say, too. I don't think anything we've done _quite_ compares to what you've done. Not just today, either. You know why Fred's dead? Because, in my time, when I called _you_ guys to help bring her back, Giles put me on hold. Okay, so maybe that's not quite the _reason_, but it was a factor."

"Well, if you worked with Gunn at Wolfram and Hart, you can't blame us for severing ties with you," said Giles.

"What's Wolfram and Hart?" asked Buffy.

"A law firm that specialises in catering to demonic and evil clientele," said Giles. "I guess we now know how Mr. Gunn could become a lawyer with a 'glorified daycare' like Yale as his alma mater."

"Yeah, we all worked at Wolfram and Hart," said Angel. "I was CEO. And while you were sitting on your ass doing nothing about it and looking down your noses at us, _we_ were taking it apart from the inside."

"Right," said Xander. "I'm sure you were right on that."

"And what exactly is that supposed to mean?"

"You said you were the CEO," said Xander. "Somehow, I don't think you got there by driving the company into the ground."

"I was afraid this might happen," said Dumbledore's voice. The elderly wizard walked slowly into the room, and leaned against a nearby chair. "I have seen much better friends fight over much smaller things. To be honest, I am surprised that you've lasted as long as this before you had a schism. Nevertheless, we have an alternative."

"You're sending them home?" said Giles.

"No," said Dumbledore calmly. "That would be silly. We are going to split you into two teams. Not the most desirable scenario, perhaps, but we have no choice now. If you go out together, in your current state, you will almost certainly fail."

"But we can't find the Bearers without a Slayer," said Angel.

"Fortunately, Slayers just happen to be as common as grains in a Time-Turner these days."

On cue, a second figure, young and pretty, stepped into the room. It was Faith.

"Hey, B," she said. "Guess I finally get to come along on your world-saving thing."

"How long were you waiting?" said Giles.

"Only about five minutes of briefing time," she responded. "Seemed like ages, though. You wouldn't believe how boring Mr. Peabody can be when he sets his mind."

"You will have one night to rest," said Dumbledore, "then each team will be sent to a different world. Now, if there are no objections…"

"I want to go with Xander," said Illyria.

"Well, I don't see why not," said Dumbledore. "You won't have problems getting along with them, I take it?"

"No," she said. "I was not involved in any of the petty squabbling with these mortals and vampires."

"Good," said Dumbledore. "Are there any other requests to be placed with a loved one? Angel? Spike?"

"Absolutely not," said Angel angrily. "I am not following Buffy around like a love-sick puppy!"

"I'm good, too," said Spike.

"And you, Buffy?" said Dumbledore. "Do any of these gentlemen still catch your eye?"

"No," said Buffy. "I'm not abandoning my friends to run around with these jerks—however hot they may be—in Narnia or the View Askewniverse or wherever they end up next."

"A wise choice," said Dumbledore. "I wish I had your ability to resist the charms of the bad boy when I was your age. Try to have a good night's sleep. There's no telling when you'll get another."

Then Dumbledore walked out of the room. Two doors appeared, one on either side of the chamber, and the two teams each headed towards their own.

*

"So, you're actually over Buffy?" said Angel. "I must admit, you have better will power than I thought. I'm surprised you didn't ask to join her team before the old guy even said we were being divided into teams."

"Right. Like you didn't see Nina as a silver metal."

"Hey! I find that offensive. I loved her."

"Sure ya did, Angel. Sure."

*

"I suppose you would not wish to sleep in the same bed as me," said Illyria.

Xander glanced nervously at Buffy and mouthed 'help' to her.

"You do not have to worry," continued Illyria. "That was a joke. Although I wish to remain in your company, I understand that the incident with Gunn will make further romantic developments between us impossible. Yet you do not laugh. It was my first joke, so that is to be expected."

"Uhh… well, hang in there," said Xander.


	14. Gaiden 1

A _Beyond Spaceland_ Side Story, Part I

Book 3: Fire

Chapter 18: Sozin's Comet, Part 2.5

The Last Harebender

The large band of red-clad Fire Nation soldiers, landing a small squadron of air ships in the field, was not exactly silent. Yet the landscape was, at first glance, barren of anyone who might object to any noise. But, several feet bellow the surface, in a homey underground tunnel, a lone rabbit was trying, with little success, to muffle the sounds by burying his head under his pillow.

Finally giving up, Bugs Bunny threw his pillow aside. "Say, what's with at the racket? It's getting so a rabbit can't catch a little shuteye!"

He got out of bed and headed straight for the surface, which was now covered in Fire Nation soldiers and anachronistic jetfighters.

"Gee," said Bugs. "Looks like they're setting up an air show or something." He approached one of the nearby soldiers and tapped him on the shoulder. "Eh, what's up, Doc?"

The soldier turned to look down on the rabbit, his face barely concealing his uncalled for rage. "Well, if you must know," he said, "we're preparing our air force to raze the Earth Kingdom tomorrow."

"Oh, okay. Carry on, then."

Then Bugs climbed back down into his hole.

"Don't I feel silly?" he said. "Of course that's what they were doing. Why would they need all those planes if they weren't getting ready to raze the Earth King… dom. Wait a minute."

Bugs slid quickly to the bottom of the ladder, then flung open his dictionary and flipped through to the Rs.

_Raze [reyz]_

_verb_

_1. To tear down; demolish._

_2. To shave or scrape off._

"Yikes!"

Bugs leapt back out of his hole, landing next to the Fire Nation soldier.

"Eh, excuse me, mack. Did you say raze?"

"Yes, raze. Or, more specifically, burn to the ground."

"Eh, yeah, that's what I thought. Do you mind if I ask why you'd do such an awful thing?"

"The Earth Kingdom is trying to resist the Fire Lord. The only way to protect our sovereignty is to destroy all its citizens."

"Oh, boy," said Bugs, then turned to the reader. "It looks like I won't get to sleep tonight after all." He turned back to the soldier. "Eh, excuse me, but what's that over there?"

The soldier followed Bugs' finger into the distance, but saw nothing of interest. Then he leapt from his opponent's swinging range and turned to face him. But Bugs had made no attempt to attack him; he was standing there, completely innocently, with nothing around him but the terrain and other Fire Nation soldiers.

"The planes!" shouted the solider. "What happened to the planes?"

"What planes?" asked Bugs innocently.

"What do you mean what planes!?" shouted the soldier. "They were right here! But how did you steal _all_ of them? Did anyone see what happened?"

And this was probably the first time he had seen such a large army look so very unanimously abashed.

"We… er, weren't looking, captain," said a lower-ranked soldier.

"None of you!?" shouted the captain. He glared back at Bugs, but didn't do anything else. Instead, he decided that retreating would be the healthiest choice.

"Don't worry," said Bugs. "They'll be back. He didn't make captain by being a quitter."

*

"And the entire fleet vanished," finished the captain.

"All of it?" said Ozai. "That's impossible!"

"I swear, sir, it's true!"

Ozai looked over the soldier's terrified face. He knew the man wasn't lying because no one would choose to be in this situation, admitting to the Fire Lord that they had just lost an entire fleet of planes, if they could avoid it. "Of course, if I can find someone that's willing to give me such amazing technology, I guess there's no reason someone else can't take it."

"Do you think it was a spirit?"

"Perhaps," said Ozai. "Or, perhaps, the First's enemies sent him here to stop our interfering with the Slayer."

"Of course! I should have thought of it before!"

"Yes, you should have." Ozai was silent for a few more seconds, then said, "But I see no reason to waste an entire army on this one rabbit. His goal, no doubt, is to keep my fleet from me until Sozin's Comet disappears. Fortunately, the First Evil has seen to it that the comet will stay in orbit for as long as I need it to. Really, there's no need to rush. Go back, and take five or so men. That should be more than enough to handle a rabbit. And, if it isn't, I'll get someone more competent to finish the job."

*

When the army returned an hour later, they found the rabbit sitting in a velvet chair, drinking some sort of carrot juice from a martini glass and reading a newspaper. He was still alone.

"Did you warn the Earth Kingdom, spirit?" said the captain.

"Me?" said Bugs. "Nah—I didn't want to worry them. Besides, you can't do anything without your planes. I wonder where they went."

"Such attitude," said the captain. "But I'm not surprised. I figured we'd need to torture the information out of you."

"Yeah," said Bugs. "I figured you'd try that."

The captain, perhaps taken aback by his confidence, blurted out, "Then why didn't you run?"

"Eh, you don't know me very well, do ya?"

"No, I don't." The captain stepped a few feet back, and his soldiers rushed forward, burying Bugs completely beneath a pile of men. "But we'll get to know you _very_ well while you're in prison. A few minutes alone with Ji, our torture master, and we'll have everything but your grandmother's address. A few more minutes, and we'll have that."

"Oh, you wouldn't want to visit her," said Bugs, nonchalantly, from behind the captain. "She can be _real_ cranky sometimes."

The captain turned around. He was enraged that he had to turn to see someone that was supposed to be lying on the bottom of a pile.

"How did you get out?" he shouted.

"Well, I _am_ a rabbit," responded Bugs.

One by one, the soldiers got to their feet, revealing a large rabbit hole. The captain stuck his head in to get a closer look. Bugs popped out, holding a kiss on the captain's lips for three-fourths a second, then ran off.

The rabbit was fast, and quickly vanished behind a large rock. The army followed, hoping to find some clue to his location. What they did find was a hunched over elderly man in an unpatriotically brown cloak and a long, white beard. What little of his face he revealed was clearly grey and furry.

"How stupid do you think I am, rabbit?"

"Eh? Rabbit?" said the 'old man' in a wheezy voice. "I did see some kind of critter head into that cave. Maybe you should run in and get it. I suggest you step back a good, looooong distance, then rush headfirst."

"That tunnel was painted on."

"Was not," retorted Bugs, in his normal speaking voice.

"Yes, it was. You painted a tunnel on a wall, and now you're trying to get me to run face-first into it. I must admit, you're a talented artist. If you agreed to put your skills to use in our propaganda department, we might spare you."

"Now that I think about it," said Bugs, again in his old man voice, "it wasn't a rabbit that ran by here at all. No, too big to be a rabbit. I think it was a lobster bear."

"There's no such thing," said the captain. "Honestly. Whoever's heard of anything as dumb as a lobster bear?"

"Dumb, eh?" said the Lobster Bear in a snarl, emerging from the cave and sticking its hairy face right in the captain's. "Think yer better than me, eh? Just because I have a little crustacean in me? Well, that DON'T make me dumb! I went to school, ya know. IVY LEAGE AND EVERYTHING. Graduated from CORNBALL University at the top of my class. And what about you? Think you're so smart just because you made CAPTAIN, do ya? Well, you know what I think? I think… I think… gee, I don't know what to think about that."

"Don't just stand there, men!" shouted the captain. "Attack the lobster bear now, before he attacks again!"

The Lobster Bear screamed like a lady and ran off, whelping like a pup, as the waves of flame passed by and hit the captain. When the fires dispersed, the captain was lying on his back, moaning.

"Sir!" shouted a panicked private. "We're sorry about…"

"Shut up and get me to a medic," groaned the charred captain.

"Yes sir," said the private.

The soldiers began to lift the captain, but he only groaned louder. Bugs casually handed them a stretcher—an act that only enraged the captain more. But there was nothing to be done; he remained mostly silent as his body was brought slowly back to the capital.

*

"A single rabbit beat five highly trained Firebenders?" said Ozai.

"Well, it was more of the Lobster Bear."

"But he led you to the Lobster Bear. A creature which is not native to this territory—or, for that matter, world."

"Well… yes."

"Exactly. The First Evil warned me about this. It said that, if I tried to attack the Slayer too often, others would try to stop me. They must have sent the rabbit."

"He doesn't seem to know very much about our world's politics. I don't think he's undergone any sort of briefing."

"Then he was manipulated. They dropped him here, hoping he'd get in our way, then use his powers to destroy us. How he got here isn't important; it's getting rid of him that matters. Send the Dai Li."

"Are you sure? Azula picked them to…"

"Azula's dead. I don't need bodyguards anymore. And our enemy lives underground. So, tell me, what could possibly be more appropriate than an Earthbender?"

*

So the green-clad Dai Li arrived at the site several hours later. The rabbit was not immediately visible. The Dai Li exchanged glances, then formed a large circle around the rabbit hole and, as if by magic, widened the chasm. Seeing nothing inside, they each stepped several feet back and widened the hole again. After three manoeuvres, they opened a hole deep enough to make the hare visible.

Bugs snored several more times before waking and seeing the agents. "Hey!" he shouted. "Where'd the roof go?"

The Dai Li members summoned a long column of earth to life Bugs to their height. One of the members summoned a rocky wall behind him while two others shot out a pair of stone fists, each of which grabbed the rabbit's wrists and attached themselves to the stone behind.

"Saaaay," said Bugs, impressed, as he slipped out of the shackles and backed off to get a better look. "That's an impressive bit of hocus-pocus there. Tell me, can you do this?" Then he wriggled his ears.

The Dai Li instead brought up another wall, then kicked it forward. The second panel hit Bugs and smashed into the one behind him, flattening the rabbit. Then the Dai Li began to leave…

"Hold on!" shouted Bugs, sliding out from between the two slabs. "You can't just walk off after _that_! What kind of magicians are you, anyway, to attack your audience? That's not exactly how Harry Houdini got started."

"We're not magicians," said one of the Dai Li agents. "We're Earthbenders. Masters of controlling rocks and soil."

"Masters indeed," said Bugs. "Puh-lease. I _live_ in the earth, and I bet I can Bend more of it than you."

The Dai Li just laughed. "A rabbit, outperform us at Bending? Really? That's something I'd really like to see."

"Okay, then," responded Bugs. "See it, you shall." He cracked his knuckles, then went through a variety of flamboyant poses. He looked sort of like an orchestra conductor in his mannerisms, but the earth was not receptive. Finally, he simply stuck a shovel into the ground and upturned a mound about ten feet high and seven feet around.

"There," said Bugs. "Beat that."

"Gee, I don't know if we can," said the agent. "But let's see."

And, yes, that was sarcasm; within seconds, the three of them were standing atop a stone column of a podium, easily thirty feet high and ten feet wide.

Bugs looked over his chunk, then theirs. "Gee, I dunno. Looks good, but I need to check the sample to make sure no steroids have been used."

He stuck his shovel into the mound and pulled out a sizeable chunk, then looked it over closely with a magnifying glass. He didn't notice that, with such a large piece missing, the column tilted over and plummeted to the ground. "Hm. Looks good so far. Okay, we'll…" he looked at what was left of the column, which amounted to no more than three feet at best. "Gee, I guess your mountain wasn't as big as I thought." He pulled out a tape measure, then sized the two up. "Well what do you know? I win." He smiled broadly at first, but soon adapted a humble look of shame. "Ah, gee, that wasn't very sporting of me, was it?" he turned to the Dai Li. "Tell you boys what. I'll declare you the Earthbending champions."

"See?" groaned one of the Dai Li, lying on the ground, slightly buried under the shattered remains of his column. "Now we can tell Ozai that we beat the rabbit spirit."

"Say, would you boys like me to call a doctor?"

"Yes."

*

"Really? That rabbit single-handedly defeated the Dai Li?"

"Yes, sir. Perhaps you should send more soldiers?"

"Don't be ridiculous," said Ozai. "It doesn't matter how many soldiers I send, he'll still find a way to outsmart them. What I need is someone stronger. Not just physically, but psychologically. Someone who will continue to hunt the rabbit until he's dead, without taking any breaks to play the bunny's silly games. And I know just the man to send."

*

Bugs popped out of his hole and employed his binoculars on his surroundings.

"It seems to me," he said, "that those thugs are about due for an encore. Aha! Just as I thought."

He saw a balding half-metal man with a third eye marching toward his hole, looking like a cross between the Terminator and another Terminator.

"Hey! A new Dick Tracey character! Three-Eyes! Hmmm. Somehow, that joke just ain't as funny this time."

The metallic man stopped several yards away from Bugs, then fired an energy bolt from his third eye. Bugs had time to gape at the manoeuvre, but couldn't escape, and he was caught in a large explosion.

But Bugs survived.

"Hey!" said Bugs. "What gives?"

Then this man, this Combustion Man, grabbed Bugs and tossed him several feet away, and followed with a second explosion.

Then he waited to make sure his target was dead this time.

Bugs emerged from the cloud of smoke. While he had seemed annoyed with the Dai Li, he now looked genuinely angry. "That, sir, is the second time you have assaulted my person. Do it a third, and I shall be forced to punch you right in the face."

And, once again, Combustion Man grabbed Bugs by the throat, threw him toward the distant ground, and blew him up.

Then he stood on guard, waiting to see if—

"That's it, buddy, you asked for it," said Bugs, smoke shooting from his nose as he stomped his way out of the cloud and up to Combustion Man. He climbed the mountain of a man, somehow standing on his chest, then pulled back his fist and whirled it around like a windmill, before finally swinging forward with the full force of his arm, stopping a foot short and simply poking Combustion Man in all three eyes.

Then he ran.

Combustion Man recovered immediately, and his third eye began to sparkle as he took aim.

Bugs dove behind a nearby rock and plugged his ears. There was another explosion, and Combustion Man's metal foot landed a few feet away.

*

"I never even knew his third eye was so vulnerable."

"Yes, it was very perceptive of the rabbit to find that weakness," said Ozai, looking over Combustion Man's remains, which were sitting in a jar on his table. "But if he was hoping to impress me enough to warrant a fast end, he shouldn't have addressed this urn to the 'Fire Chump.' I'm going to see to it that his death is slow and painful."

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to speak with the First. Now leave."

The attendant quickly obeyed the command and left. Ozai rose from his throne and turned to look out the window.

"To think, all the world is in my grasp. A rabbit, a boy, and a handful of rebels are all that stand against me. And yet, somehow, I still don't feel like I've won yet!"

In a rage, Ozai knocked over a nearby vase, shattering it and its portrait of his father.

"That's understandable," said the First Evil, taking the form of his grandfather, Sozin. "The boy is the Avatar. Despite his age, he's outperformed a lot of much more experienced Benders. And the rabbit is arguably more dangerous."

"But he isn't invincible."

"You're assuming that."

"His actions are clearly in self-defence. If he feels it necessary to protect himself, then he must be mortal."

"Very clever. Yet he has proven very good at protecting himself. Do you have a plan?"

"I do. But I will need you to bring Azula back."

"My, my, asking for a third wish already? Considering your men tried, twice, to kill the Slayer, and failed both times, it seems a little presumptuous of you to ask for another favour."

"This isn't just a favour. From those recordings of the rabbit you gave me, I don't think he'd be the type to attack a fifteen-year-old girl. Azula will be perfect for defeating him."

"And what will I get in exchange for this deal? Remember; the Fire Nation failed twice. I am in no hurry to try them a third time."

"If you bring Azula back, and she kills the rabbit, then I'll have someone reliable to leave in charge while I go after the Slayer myself."

"So you're offering to risk your own life in this endeavour?"

"It is no risk. I've seen recordings of the Slayer, too."

"You're very confident. Okay, then. I'll bring your daughter back. Oh, but I should warn you that I will not tolerate any attempts on your part to outsmart me. Once I've brought Azula back, she'll have two hours to kill the rabbit. And that includes briefing and travel time. If she can't complete the job by then, she'll disappear, and you'll have to get rid of the rabbit on your own. Not that you'll be out of the deal, mind you. You're my servant now, Ozai, and, if the occasion arises, you will be called back to serve me, whether you have someone to watch your kingdom or not. Assuming you survive until then. But if you don't, that's okay. There are plenty of others who are willing to serve me. Remember, what I do may mean a world to you, but your life amounts to a footnote for me."

Ozai heard his daughter's voice, then turned around to find Azula, dazed and annoyed, standing in the throne room. He turned back to look at the First Evil, but it was gone.

*

A little more than an hour later, Azula calmly approached the rabbit's hole.

"Awww, look. The little bunny rabbit is still sleeping. Time to wake the bunny up."

She stood over the entrance, then pointed her open-palmed hand into it and unleashed a blast of flames.

"Yeowch!" hollered Bugs as he leapt out another nearby hole, grasping his burning tail. "You know, I think I liked it better when I was in hunting pictures."

"What are you babbling about?" said Azula, still speaking calmly. "Something to do with your own world, no doubt. Must have been pretty easy there, where the only people you had to worry about had the brains of a common house plant."

"Yeah, I guess it was," said Bugs matter-of-factly.

"Then you come here. And you got lucky. The first people you fought weren't down to quite your usual level, but they were still pretty slow, so you outsmarted them, too. You must be feeling pretty proud right about now."

"Eh, maybe a little."

"But that's all over with. I will not be tricked as easily as your other opponents. Within an hour, you will be dead."

"If you say so," said Bugs. "But could ya let me rest up a bit first? Dying ain't easy, ya know."

Bugs began to crawl back into his rabbit hole, but Azula grabbed him by the ears and pulled him back out.

"There'll be plenty of time for that later."

"Oh, fuh-uh-neeeee," said Bugs. "Tell me, have you heard the one about the two horses and the cow? They voted on whether or not to the farm should buy a bull, and the neighs won."

"You know, you may think you're funny, but I really think it's quite sad."

"I know. That poor, lonely cow."

"I mean your jokes. You're the type of guy that always has something funny to say. On the outside, it looks like you can't take anything seriously. But you know, and I know, that you only act like that to cover how wretched and miserable you feel."

Bugs just nodded half-pensively, as if judging a five-year-old's finger painting. "I'll bet your boyfriend loves it when you talk like that."

"I don't need a boyfriend!" shouted Azula.

"Whoa, no reason to fly off the handle. If you're between relationships right now, that's fine."

"I am _not_ between relationships! I just choose not to pursue men."

"Oh, getting a little defensive there, aren't ya? I'm starting to think you're having man troubles."

"I am not having man troubles!" shouted Azula, literally breathing flames over Bugs' face as she spoke. "I could date any man I wanted to at any time."

"Is that so?" said Bugs. He then removed his wallet from his pocket, and handed Azula a photo from inside. "How about this guy?" The photo featured a short, balding man.

"You're kidding, right? I could have this runt eating out of the palm of my hand. Too bad I only have an hour to kill you."

"Oh, you'll have plenty of time to kill me later. This supersonic jet can get you to Fudd's house in less than five minutes. Come on. Or are you scared?"

"I'm not scared of anything," said Azula. "I'll do it, but just to prove to you that I can."

And, within minutes, Bugs was flying the jet towards Fudd's house.

"Why are you so interested in my love life, anyway?" asked Azula.

"Eh, I'm just that kinda guy, I guess," said Bugs. "Oh! That reminds me; I need to adjust my clock."

"Your clock? Why?"

"Fudd lives in a different time zone. Where we're going, it's an hour later than where we've been."

"Oh, is that… wait, you stupid ra—"

Then Azula disappeared in a cloud of smoke.

*

Bugs promptly returned to his bed and crawled underneath the sheet, hugging it close to his body. He had just closed his eye when the sound of a marching army came from his ceiling.

"Well, at least this time it sounds like his big finale. His last resort, if you will."

Bugs climbed his ladder and stuck his head out into the open. Lord Ozai was marching toward his hole, fifty or so soldiers marching behind.

Bugs gulped. "And what a resort it is. Oh, well. A hare's gotta do what a hare's gotta do." So Bugs climbed entirely out of his hole and walked halfway to meet the opposition. "Yes?"

At Ozai's command, twenty of the soldiers ran out and circled the rabbit. Then, as a soldier at a time stepped back, the circle began to tighten like a noose. Eventually, the formation was eight men tight, each pointing a spear straight at Bugs' neck.

"Okay, okay," he squeaked, sweating heavily. "You win! I'll take ya to the planes. Follow me."

The formation opened, allowing Bugs to walk briskly free and towards the Fire Nation. If his goal was to escape, he wasn't going to reach it; the squad followed him closely behind.

"It's a long trek, Doc," said Bugs. "You sure you wouldn't rather stay behind while I run ahead?"

"We'll be fine," responded Ozai. "Keep going."

And Bugs was happy to comply. For what seemed like hours, he kept marching and marching and marching and marching and marching and marching and marching and marching and marching and marching and marching and marching and marching and marching and marching and marching and marching and marching and marching and marching and marching and marching and marching and marching and marching and marching and marching and marching and marching and marching and marching and marching and marching and marching and marching and marching and marching and marching and marching and marching and marching and marching and marching and marching and marching and marching and marching and marching and marching and marching and marching and marching and marching and marching and marching and marching and marching and marching and marching.

"Stop!" shouted out Ozai. "We've been at it for nearly twenty hours!"

Bugs munched on a carrot. "I said it was a long trek."

"Well, we're stopping for a rest now," said Ozai.

Bugs shrugged and tried to walk ahead, but the soldiers stopped him with half a dozen fireballs.

"You're staying right here," said Ozai.

"Fine," said Bugs. "I'm staying right here."

Then, once the rabbit was properly surrounded by enough guards and soldiers, the troops stretched out on the ground and began to doze--

But were all violently awoken by the sound of Bugs blowing into a bugle.

"Come on, boys! Rise and shine!"

Ozai rubbed his eyes, then looked at the sun. "We were only asleep for ten minutes!"

"Oh, sorry," said Bugs. He looked at his watch. "I forgot that I set this thing an hour ahead. See?" He turned to the reader. "That's called continuity." He turned back to Ozai. "Well, don't worry. If you want to go back to sleep, I won't run away."

Ozai looked over his men, and only now realised the rabbit was well outside their circle.

"Everyone, get up and follow that rabbit!" shouted Ozai.

Annoyed, but wisely silent, the soldiers got to their feet and began to march with Bugs.

"Are we almost there?" asked a guard, ten seconds later?

"Almost," responded Bugs.

"Okay, we're there," Bugs said.

They stood outside a large square-shaped building, every door and window sealed tightly shut. Outside the building was a crudely written sign:

_Spirit World._

"Step into this temple, and you'll be transported to the part of the Ghost World—"

"Spirit World."

"—Spirit World where I'm keeping your planes."

Ozai looked at the 'temple.' It looked suspiciously unlike a temple.

"Do you think I'm stupid?" he said.

"Yup!" responded Bugs happily.

"Well, I'm not. That isn't a temple—it's a military compound. There's probably an ambush waiting inside for us."

"Okay, if you'd rather not, I won't make ya. By the way, thanks for all the planes."

"I said I'm _not_ stupid," responded Ozai. He then pointed to a trio of soldiers. "You three. Go inside and look around. If you make it out alive, I'll see to it that you're richly rewarded."

With a little fear, the three soldiers marched into the temple as Bugs held the door open for them. When he closed it, however, he slammed it a bit too hard. The _Spirit World_ sign outside the door tottered and fell, revealing another label:

_Munitions_

"I thought so," said Ozai. "It's a trick! Quick! Get him!"

Ozai stood back as his squad stepped forward, each Bending a small ball of fire around in their hands.

"Now," said Ozai. "This is your last chance. Tell us where the planes are. You have ten seconds."

There was a knock on the door behind Bugs.

"Sir?" said a soldier from within. "It's too dark!"

"Have you tried lighting a fire?" suggested Bugs.

"No, but we'll do that. Thanks."

"Well, that takes care of that." Then Bugs gulped loudly. "Small consolation, though it is."

"Well, well, well" said Ozai. "It looks like the rabbit isn't so tough any more, is he? No more clever plans? No more silly illusions? You're all out of tricks, aren't you?" Ozai and his army stepped forward, closing in on the rabbit. "Any last words?"

"Eh, yeah," responded Bugs. "I wouldn't do that if I were you."

"Well, unfortunately, you're not me," responded Ozai. Then he and his squad took up their battle poses, each one getting ready to throw their part of a massive fireball.

At around this time, the soldiers inside the munitions shed must have lit their fire, because the entire building went up in a giant blast. Yet the destruction was surprisingly neat; the roof flew straight into the sky, and each of the walls fell outward. Ozai's army had no time to move before the wall landed, crushing them beneath it.

Bugs, standing in the doorframe, leaned against the door. "Oh, well. I warned him. But I guess some guys just can't get the last laugh."

There was another explosion, this one smaller and more focused, that blew a small hole in the toppled remains of the front wall. Ozai emerged, scowling at the hare.

"It wouldn't appear so," said Ozai. "In fact, now that you've made me mad, I doubt you'll be laughing again. Not that I'm going to kill you, mind you. On the contrary—I'll see that you survive in prison for a very long—"

This speech was cut off when the "temple" roof landed on top of him.

"Let's see if he's smart enough to stay down this time," said Bugs.

There was another small explosion, and Ozai re-emerged from the wreckage.

"You know, making me angrier is not in your best interest right now."

He stepped forward again, but was crushed beneath a falling anvil, which was drove into the ground by a safe, which was, in turn, hit by a warship.

The walls of the warship melted off, and Ozai stepped out into the open. His clothes were badly torn, but he otherwise seemed healthy.

"You don't get it, do you?" said Ozai. "You can't kill me. When I agreed to help the First Evil, I didn't do it just so that he'd keep Sozin's Comet in the air for longer. I did it so that he'd make me invincible. My own life force—my mortality—has been permanently linked to the comet. As long as it stays in the sky, I am literally immortal."

"Is that what Mr. the F. Evil said?" said Bugs.

"That was exactly what it said," replied Ozai.

Then Sozin's Comet landed on top of the Fire Lord.

Once again, Bugs began to eat one of his trademark carrots. "Yeah, yeah, I know what you're gonna say. What are the chances? Well, when you think about it, he's actually pretty lucky. Everyone reaches for the stars, but how often do the stars reach back?"

*

-

*

Bugs Bunny is owned by Warner Brothers.


	15. IV i

"_And a lean, silent figure slowly fades into the gathering darkness, aware at last that in this world, with great power there must also come -- great responsibility!"_

_--Stan Lee, "Spider-Man" in _Amazing Fantasy_ # 15._

Strongest Under the Heavens? Goku Appears. 

Fortunately, it was night when our heroes appeared.

Angel and the others found themselves in the middle of a crowded city, surrounded by busy people and noise. Spike was so distracted that he only barely survived a fast-moving hovercar as it passed by.

"Watch where you're going, you moron!" shouted the driver, flipping Spike off.

"Where are we?" asked Angel.

Everyone looked around, but no one recognized the architecture.

"An anime of some sort," said Spike, "but I couldn't tell you which."

Faith turned to a passer-by and asked him where they were.

"Are you kidding, lady?" he said. "This is Satan City."

"Thanks." Faith turned to the others. "I kinda doubt this place is named after the great philanthropist, Mr. Satan. We'd better get outta…"

At that moment, the city's cacophony was drowned out by a giant TV perched atop the skyscrapers. "We now bring you live to East Satan City, where that great philanthropist, Mr. Satan, has begun his famed 'Satan Games' tournament."

"Huh," said Faith. "Whaddaya know?"

A muscular man with a thick moustache and a distracting afro appeared, shoving the reporter off the screen and commandeering the microphone.

"Yeaaaaaah!" he shouted. "The 'Satan Games' will begin in only ten minutes! Now, for those of you who haven't been paying attention, remember: once you've paid the 100 Zeni entrance fee, all you have to do is last _five minutes_ in the arena with me! All the money raised by the tournament will be used to build the First Church of Mr. Satan, and if you win, you might be taken on as my new disciple!"

"Who's that wanker think he is, anyway?" said Spike.

"Have you been living under a rock or something?" shouted some farmer. "Mr. Satan is the strongest guy on Earth!"

Spike looked back at the screen. "Really? He doesn't look that strong."

"Wow, you're really stupid," said the farmer.

"Stupid!?" said Spike. "Hell, if I had any Zeni, I'd take this Satan bloke on myself, and then we'd see who's stupid."

"Yeah?" said the farmer. "Well, I'll _give_ you the money, just for the pleasure of seeing you put in your place."

"Fine with me," said Spike. "Take me to him, and we've got a deal."

The farmer pulled out a small capsule and tossed it to the ground. There was a burst of smoke, and another hovercar appeared.

The ride to the "Satan Games" took only a few minutes, and that time was mostly dedicated to Angel calling Spike an idiot.

"You're an idiot," said Angel. "You don't know who that guy is, or even what world you're in. For all you know, Mr. Satan can bench-press a truck."

"An idiot like that?" said Spike.

"Well, he is the strongest guy on Earth."

"So?"

"So? That's all you have to say?"

"Well, what if he doesn't have superpowers? Maybe this is one of those shows where everyone rides around in giant robots, and the humans are all nerdy scientists. Besides, I have killed two Slayers, so I'm not exactly a pushover."

"And if you're wrong, it'll be fun seeing you get your ass handed to you," said Angel.

Once they arrived, the farmer grabbed Spike by the shoulder and maneuvered him across the room to a small, stone-tiled floor in the center.

"I've found a challenger!" he said.

"What?" said Mr. Satan. "This pansy? Ha! It's really noble of you to donate your body to charity, but wouldn't you rather just give me the money right now?"

Spike promptly removed his leather coat, revealing only a white sleeveless shirt and some nice muscles.

"Keep talking, bitch. Once your head's been broken open, I'm sure lots of people will volunteer to fight you."

"What!?" Mr. Satan threw off his own coat. Each of his muscles was almost the size of Spike's torso. But Spike had beaten bigger guys.

They met in the middle of the ring. Spike, not wanting to kill this buffoon, decided he'd catch the first strike and flip his opponent to the ground.

But Mr. Satan's punch was too quick and too strong, and Spike was knocked to the ground. He was surprised by the force of the blow. Big as Mr. Satan was, he was a lot stronger than he looked.

"Not bad," said Spike as he got back to his feet. "Better than I thought. I see you're not all hype. Too bad you're still an idiot."

"You talk tough," said Mr. Satan, "but you fight like a little girl."

"Thanks," said Spike.

Mr. Satan charged Spike again and threw a punch, but this time Spike ducked just a bit sooner and passed completely under the arm, at which point he delivered a sharp blow to Mr. Satan's stomach. The larger man gripped his midsection in pain and growled. So he was mortal—that was good. But it only lasted a second; Mr. Satan was soon back on his feet and looking madder than ever.

"You're pretty strong, too," said Mr. Satan. "You should think about entering the Tenkaichi Budokai. If you're lucky, you _might_ be able to get second place." Mr. Satan crossed his arms and began to smile pretentiously. "Of course, you're no match for me, but you might want to try fighting my disciple. He's not _quite_ as strong as I am, but you'd probably learn more from the closer fight."

Mr. Satan pointed to the side of the arena, towards a fat, pink, marshmallow-like creature, which waved enthusiastically.

"You want fight Buu, blonde man?" said the disciple. Spike felt insulted.

"No thanks," said Spike. "I'd rather learn from the 'master.'"

"Uhhh… okay, then!" said Mr. Satan. He glanced at the clock, which indicated that only a minute had passed. "I can see that you're not going to back down easily! Of course, I'll have to hold back to make sure I don't hurt you."

"No, Mr. Satan!" shouted the farmer. "This guy has done nothing but badmouth you! I say you give him your all!"

Mr. Satan stared in horror as the crowd burst into applause. He knew that, if he lost, he wouldn't be able to BS his way out of it. So he turned back to Spike, and his expression grew very serious.

He charged with his fist pulled back. Spike quickly stepped to the side and took a swing at his feet, but Mr. Satan leapt over the attack and kicked Spike in the face. Spike reeled back, holding his bloody nose. At this point, he became aware of two things.

Firstly, Mr. Satan was not underestimating him anymore.

Secondly…

Spike smiled. "You're scared."

"Wh… what?" said Mr. Satan.

"You're scared because you've never met anyone as strong as you," said Spike.

"Errrr… yeah," said Mr. Satan. "I mean, no! I'm not scared because no one _is_ as strong as me!"

"Really?" said Spike. "Funny, because you put a lot more effort into that hit than you put into your first. You're trying harder because you know you have to. One punch was all it took to make you realize that you'll need to give me both barrels, and, you know what? That's why I'm going to win. I've lost before. I'm used to fighting people stronger than me, so I can handle it. But you? You sit on top of a throne. I've been out in the world, taking on the real scaries. I've seen things that would give your heart attacks heart attacks. I hope, for your sake, that you never have to see the kinds of things that I've seen."

Mr. Satan growled. "Oh, yeah? Please! You couldn't handle the things I've seen! Even my bookworm son-in-law could kick the snot out of _you_!"

He charged Spike and unleashed a flurry of punches, but Spike rolled out of the way and behind Mr. Satan without being noticed. Spike kicked him in the back, and Mr. Satan quickly retaliated with a kick that caught Spike in the leg and knocked him down. Then Mr. Satan stomped hard on the smaller man. He picked Spike's body off the ground and held it in the air.

"I hope you don't have an appointment," said Mr. Satan, staring Spike right in the eyes, "because I'm gonna clean your clock!"

"Yeah?" said Spike. Then his face shifted to its vampiric form.

Startled, Mr. Satan loosened his grip, giving Spike enough time to slip from his hands and land a kick to the ribs and a punch to the face. Mr. Satan then leapt back and struck a ridiculous hands-on-sides, elbows-outstretched pose.

"I didn't want to do this!" he said, "but you're forcing me to use my special move: The Dynamite Kick!"

The crowd began to mumble amongst themselves excitedly, with the recurring theme of their discussions being, "He wouldn't do that if he weren't serious."

Spike felt nervous. Was he in for it now?

Mr. Satan screamed at the top of his lungs, then broke into a charge that made Spike back off to the edge of the arena, half-expecting an energy beam. The champion then leapt into the air and extended his foot in what, according to all senses, seemed to be a jump-kick. Spike simply rolled his eyes and brought his foot into the targets Mr. Satan had unwisely bared.

And the strongest man on Earth fell to the ground, groaning and grabbing his groin.

The audience's sudden silence seemed almost audible. Then, there were whispers.

"The champion is down! Mr. Satan isn't the strongest in the world anymore!"

Mr. Satan's disciple lifted the former champion off the ground.

"This doesn't mean anything!" shouted Mr. Satan. "This wasn't an official match! I'm still the world champion!"

"Technically, yeah," said someone, "but…"

Then a skinny blonde man in a dark suit and sunglasses emerged from the crowd. "Your title isn't gone," he said, "but your respect is. Face it, Mr. Satan, everybody knows that you're not the strongest anymore. He is."

The man grabbed Spike's arm and held it in the air as if he had just won a boxing match. "What's your name, young man?"

"My name is Spike," said Spike. "And I want everyone to know that, in addition to being the strongest man in the world, I am also the greatest lover."

"You want Buu beat him up?" said the fat pink thing to Mr. Satan.

"No, no," said Mr. Satan. "That's fine! I don't want _you_ to endanger yourself, too."

"Spike!"

"Whose there?" said Spike. Whoever it was, he had a really annoying voice.

"Oh, great," said Mr. Satan. "The strongest guy on Earth talks to himself."

"Do you mind?" said Spike testily. "This is a private conversation between me and the voice in my head."

"My name is King Kai," said the voice. "I'm here to help. But first, you'll need a place to stay. I want you to find someone that can take you to Master Roshi's house."

"Master Roshi's house," said Spike. "Is that where the Bearer lives?"

"I don't know who the Bearer is," responded King Kai, "but Master Roshi will give you a place to stay for a while, and he's friends with most of the strongest people on this planet, so that'll give you a good chance to get their help."

"Thanks," said Spike, "but I've already taken down number one, and if he's any indication, I don't think two plus will bring much to the table."

"You've already beaten the strongest one? Oh, ho, ho, ho, ho, ho! That's a good one. I'll have to write that one down."

Spike called King Kai back to ask what the hell he was laughing at, but no one answered, except for the bystanders who had a good laugh at Spike's apparent paranoia.

"You heard a voice?" said Angel.

Spike nodded. "Some bloke named King Kai told us to meet some other bloke named Master Roshi."

"Huh? Master Roshi?" said the farmer.

"Heard of him?" said Spike.

"Sure!" he said. "Master Roshi is one of the most prolific martial arts trainers in the history of the Earth. Some people even think that his most powerful pupil could have held his own against Mr. Satan."

"Well, where's the old guy live?"

"His house is a bit south of there. I'll take you in my hovercar, if you'd like."

*

Several hours later, the group arrived on Master Roshi's island. The farmer, having done his part for the World's Strongest Man, politely left.

"I'm starting to like this place," said Spike. "I'm finally getting the recognition I deserve."

A sleepy-looking turtle crawled out from behind the house and seemed to look over the group.

"Excuse me," said the turtle, "but are you looking for Master Roshi?"

"Yeah. Is that you?"

"No. My name is Turtle. Master Roshi is inside."

"Well, tell him the strongest man in the world wants to see him," said Spike.

"Oh, I don't think he's going to want to train you with that attitude," said Turtle. But, regardless, he crawled across to Master Roshi's door.

"Master? There are some young people here! One of them claims to be the strongest man alive!"

"Really? Well, tell me this, Turtle. Has Gohan reappeared yet?"

"No, Master."

"Then clearly someone has an inflated ego. Tell them to get lost one. I'm watching an exercise tape."

"Who's Gohan?" said Angel.

"Gohan is the son of Goku," said Turtle, "Master Roshi's greatest student."

"Ah, I see," said Spike. "Well, tell him that if he's watching TV now, we'll wait until he's done. I'm not interested in training with him. I'm just here because King Kai sent me."

"He says King Kai sent him!" shouted Turtle.

"Well, if he's a student of King Kai, that's different. I'll be out in half an hour."

Spike sat down, legs crossed and face beaming. "I bet this old man will be happy to house—"

"Enough, Spike," said Angel.

"Enough what?"

"Enough with this strongest in the world crap."

"What? Are you still thinking about that? Really, Angel, I'm not even thinking about how amazing I am. I was just going to say the old man would be happy to house a young woman as pretty as Faith. Not that I can blame you for being so preoccupied with me. You have a lot to be jealous about."

"You're a dick, Spike."

"And there's that little crush you've always had on me."

Half an hour later, the door to Master Roshi's house swung open. Master Roshi himself was a balding man with a turtle shell on his back and sunglasses over his eyes. He didn't look impressive, but he carried a lot of confidence and had a lot of dignity. He looked across the four of them, but stared at Faith the longest.

"Turtle!" he said. "Why didn't you tell me there was a beautiful young woman here?"

"I don't like to encourage you," responded Turtle.

"Hmph," said Master Roshi. Then he turned back to the group. "No matter. I can't imagine why someone like you would be in contact with King Kai, but if you even know that name, you must be very special."

"Well, I don't mean to brag," said Spike, "but I was recently declared the strongest man in the world."

"I heard," said Master Roshi. The old man turned momentarily to Faith, and even his sunglasses couldn't hide the fact that he was eyeing her up like a horny teen looking through a peephole. But he soon returned his attention to Spike. "You know, I was considered the strongest man on Earth once. What do you say? Wanna spar?"

"What, with you?" said Spike. "Please. I don't want to send some old man to the hospital."

"Ho, ho," laughed Master Roshi. "Don't worry about me. I can handle myself. It's yourself you should be worried about."

"Sure it is, old timer."

"So you're not scared? Glad to hear it. I'll tell you what I'll do. If you can defeat me, I'll give you one of my hovercars, _and_ I'll teach you how to drive it."

"Easiest car I've even won."

"And what if you win?" said Angel.

Then Master Roshi blushed. "Well, if that should happen, this lady over here has to give me a lap dance."

"What?" said Faith.

"Deal," said Spike.

"Hey!" said Faith.

"Come on," said Spike. "Free car."

Faith looked annoyed, but then she shrugged. "Sure. We could use the ride."

"For your sake, Faith," said Angel, "I hope Irus here pulls through."

"Okay, then," said Spike. "Where do you want to fight?"

"Here will be fine," said Master Roshi.

Spike walked up to Master Roshi, carefully watching to make sure the old man didn't move, then threw a punch at his face. Master Roshi bent backwards as if he was ducking a limbo stick, and Spike's fist went right over him. Spike then swung his leg towards Roshi's, but the elderly man leapt gracefully over it. Spike became frantic and began to attack Master Roshi as quickly and viciously as he could, but the ancient martial artist stayed one inch away from each blow.

"For the strongest man on Earth, you're not doing very well," said Master Roshi.

"Yeah?" said Spike. "Well… oh, the hell with this."

Spike stopped his fist mid-air, then withdrew into a defensive stance. "I see where this is going. I beat the strongest man on Earth, but you're the fastest, right? Clever. You have to dodge everything because you have no physical strength, and the only way you can win is to tire me out so that you can push me over. Well, it's not going to work."

"I guess you're just too smart for me," said Master Roshi.

"Yeah, I'm probably the smartest guy on Earth, too," said Spike. "And I figured something else out. I figured out that, if you did attack me, you'd leave yourself open to a counterattack."

"Well, aren't you creative?" said Master Roshi. "Of course, your assumption that I'm weaker than you is wrong, but I can tell that you have great potential."

"That so?" said Spike. "And I suppose you think you're stronger than Mr. Satan?"

"Mr. Satan's an embarrassment to the martial arts."

"Uh-huh," said Spike. "And fighting was better in the good ole days. Funny, then, how your nostalgic old ass hasn't actually hit me yet."

"Oh, I'm about to launch my attack," said Master Roshi. "So this is your chance to give up."

"Great." Spike moved back into his defensive pose. "Well, then, let's see what you've got."

"Okay," said Master Roshi. "On the count of three."

"Looks like Ulysses's pulling back his rags," said Angel.

Then, Master Roshi counted: "One. Two. Three!"

Master Roshi didn't seem to move, but he must have. Spike felt a quick jab to the chest that hurt just slightly more being hit by Glory, then a kick knocked his feet out from under him. Next thing he knew, he was in the air, and he felt a kick to his back knock him towards the sky.

Then there was a loud whoosh…

*

And Angel watched with dormant horror as Spike was knocked over the horizon by a single blow.

"Spike!" said Angel.

"Don't worry," said Master Roshi. "I didn't hit him that hard. He's not dead."

"Yeah, he is," said Angel. "He's a vampire. Sunlight kills him."

"Really?" said Master Roshi. "Hm. Well, that is unfortunate. I don't think he'll spend too much time in the sun, though. And even if he does die, we can bring him back. We've done it before."

Still holding his hands behind his back, Master Roshi casually back flipped onto the roof of his house. He lifted his ear to the sky intently, then stepped a few feet to the side and stuck out his hand. What looked like a comet or a fireball flew over the house and right over Master Roshi's reach. He grabbed the flaming ball—which turned out to be a smoldering but living Spike—out of the air and placed him gently on the ground.

"Well, I guess I walked right into that one," said Spike. "Still, was the circumnavigation thing really necessary?"

"Sorry," said Master Roshi. "I guess I got carried away. I just wanted to prove to you that you can't always trust everything you hear. It would also be worth remembering that anyone who's truly dedicated enough to self-improvement to become the strongest man on Earth isn't going to flaunt it the way Mr. Satan does."

"Makes sense," said Spike. "But, again, that kick around the world shtick? Isn't _that_ flaunting your power?"

"I suppose so," said Master Roshi, "but you're making assumptions again. I'm not the strongest man on Earth, either. In fact, there are people millions of times stronger than I could ever hope to become at my age. But I don't want to waste time reminiscing about the past when I have so much to look forward to in the future." Master Roshi looked at Faith and started blushing, and suddenly his Obi Wan persona vanished behind his Pee Wee Morris. "Come on, young lady. Don't you want to give an old man one last thrill?"

Faith did a remarkable job at hiding her revolt. "Sure. By the way, thanks for calling me a lady. I guess the surgery was more convincing than I thought."

Then Master Roshi's eyes bulged out far enough to shatter his sunglasses. "Uhh… on second thought, that won't be necessary." He laughed. "It wouldn't be fair. You didn't really agree, after all."

"Thanks for being such a gentleman," said Faith. "But you sure you don't want a quick lap dance? Maybe even a little action afterwards?"

"Oh, no," said Mater Roshi. "I'm quite happy in my life of celibacy."

"Oh, master," said Turtle.

At that moment, the sound of another loud _wooooosh!_ swept over the island, and a man landed on it.

He was tall and muscular, clad in a red martial arts gi that somehow seemed too loose, even on his large body. But he had a pleasant, almost childish face that made him look more comforting than intimidating.

"Goku!" said Master Roshi.

"Hi, sensei," said Goku. "How have things been on your end?"

"Oh, you know. The usual. But what brings you all the way out here?"

"Well, there was one thing," said Goku. "We need to look for the Dragon Balls."

"Dragon Balls?" said Spike. "Of course! I thought you looked familiar."

"Huh?" Goku goggled at Spike. "What do you mean? Have we met?"

"No. I just saw you on TV or something."

"Oh! Really? I'm impressed. Most people don't recognise me because I was so much smaller when I fought in the Budokai." Goku turned back to Master Roshi. "Anyway, King Kai just told me there's some evil intangible being coming to our universe, and the only way to stop him is to use the Dragon Balls."

"You can stop him?" said Angel.

"Sure," said Goku. "King Kai says that he's actually pretty weak. The only reason I couldn't stop him right now is that he's insomethingable."

"Intangible," said Angel. "How do you stop him? Just collect the balls and tell them to make the First disappear?"

"Pretty much," said Goku. "But we'll need Bulma's Dragon Radar to find them. I went to Bulma's house to get one, but Vegeta told me that she was coming here looking for Krillin."

"Well, he and 18 took Maron to a dentist appointment," said Master Roshi, "but they should be back soon."

"There's no time to wait for them," said Goku. "As soon as Bulma arrives, I'm going after the Dragon Balls."

So, of course, another hovercar appeared at that very moment, and a middle-aged woman with blue hair climbed out.

"Hello, Master Roshi," she said. "Where's Krillin?"

"You can talk with Krillin later," said Goku. "We have to go now!"

"But it was important!" said Bulma. "Krillin's the only one I know short enough to fit into the dress I'm sewing for Pan!"

"You call _that_ important?" said Goku.

"Videl questioned my sewing abilities," said Bulma. "I can't let her get away with that."

"There's no time!" said Goku. "The world could be in danger!"

"Wow!" said Bulma. "That serious, huh? Well, in that case, sure."

"I'll come too," said Angel.

Master Roshi raised an eyebrow at him. "What could you possibly do to help? Unless you're a lot stronger than your loud-mouthed friend, I don't think you'll really change things."

"I have some skills that could be useful," said Angel. "Strength and speed aren't everything."

"Finally, someone who gets it!" said Bulma. "It'll be nice to have someone to talk to that isn't a muscle-brain."

"Gee, Bulma, are you sure?" sad Goku. "Bringing him along could be dangerous."

"Dangerous?" said Bulma. "Why? Who could possibly threaten him with you around? Hey! And why are you so much more concerned about him than about me?"

"Wah! I'm not!" said Goku. "It's just that I _know_ you can take care of yourself! I don't know anything about this guy."

"Oh, I can handle myself," said Angel. "I'm willing to bet that I've survived more apocalypses than you've even… well, than most people have imagined."

"Well, if you insist," said Goku. "It's not like you could make things worse."

And, at that moment, Angel was not alone in hoping that _Dragon Ball Z_ was not big on foreshadowing.

*

Actually collecting the Dragon Balls was a long but monotonous experience that consisted mostly of twenty-minute car rides that would end with Angel or Bulma getting out and picking the ball up. It was boring, but Angel was used to being bored. And at least no one was dying.

It was several hours before the hovercar began to close in on the final ball.

"That's strange," said Bulma. "The balls are usually harder to collect than this."

"I guess we lucked out," said Goku with a laugh.

"I don't believe in luck," said Angel.

"Well, what do you call it when everything works out so well?" said Goku.

"I call it suspicious," said Angel. "One piece of good luck, like finding a ten-dollar bill on the porch outside your house, is luck, but when you find a ten-dollar bill on your porch every day, there's something else going on. And something is going on here."

"You think so, huh?" said Goku. "Well, I guess it is funny, but when you think about it, we didn't get too lucky. It's not like I would have had any real trouble anyway."

"No, of course not," said Angel. "Except that you couldn't save us if we were attacked. And you need us to pick up the Dragon Balls."

"What do you mean?" demanded Bulma. "I've seen Goku lift much heavier things than those light-weight balls."

"This isn't Goku," said Angel. "It's the First Evil."

"What are you talking about? Of course it's Goku!"

"No, it's the First Evil. The First can turn into anyone that has died, even if they're not currently dead. And it has come into a lot of power lately. That's why things were so easy. The First Evil used magic to make sure all the Dragon Balls would go somewhere safe so that it could be sure you'd be able to collect them. Obviously, there's something the First wants, but can't get with its own magic."

"And how, may I ask, did you figure all this out?"

"When you said that you've brought people back with the Dragon Balls before, I realized that the First could have disguised itself as any of your friends. Then, when Goku showed up, I couldn't smell him. The First may be able to take on anyone's form, but it can't become tangible, and it doesn't carry a scent."

"Wow," said Bulma. "Hey! Are you saying that _I_ smell!?"

"No! I'm saying…"

"Ignore him!" shouted the First Evil in Goku's form. "It's probably just the First Evil trying to save itself! Gather the Dragon Balls!"

"No!" shouted Angel. "If you do, you'll fall right into its plan!"

"Gather the Dragon Balls!" shouted the fake Goku. "And wish for the destruction of the Slayer!"

"Buffy…" said Angel.

"Yes!" said the First. "Buffy. That's the intangible evil one's true name."

"Buffy?" said Bulma. "What a name for a monster."

"Buffy's not the monster!" said Angel. He pointed to the First. "That is."

"Oh yeah?" said Bulma. "Well, let me tell you that I've known Goku a _lot_ longer than I've know you, and not once has he given me any reason to doubt him."

"That's right," said the First Evil. "So gather the balls."

Bulma obliged happily. Angel knew that, after everything he'd seen in this world, chances were good that this woman could kick his ass at a moment's notice. Still, he charged at Bulma, hoping that he'd somehow be able to overpower her.

But she didn't fight back. Instead, she shrieked and pushed a button on her watch. A green, spherical wall flew out around her, and Angel was bounced spine-first into the car.

"Phew. It's a good thing I thought to build this shielding device. It might not be strong enough to keep someone like Freiza or Cell out, but it can certainly work on someone as weak as you."

Bulma placed the last Dragon Ball with the others. The spheres let off a magnificent, blinding light, and soon, a serpentine dragon rose majestically into the sky.

Angel had never seen anything as daunting at the great lizard before him. Yet Bulma was an old hand, and she was less interested in the dragon than in her electronic shield.

"Great. A short," she said. Then she turned to glare at Angel. "You broke it! I should have known you weren't _that_ weak. Why'd you have to attack me, anyway? Did you really think we were in danger? Geez, you're so tense. I wish you'd cheer up."

"Your first wish is granted," said the great dragon.

"Oop!" Bulma cupped her hands to her mouth. "Well, there goes our first wish. Now we only have one left! I hope you're happy."

The vampire removed himself from the hovercar's hood, holding his back and groaning. Then he looked at Bulma, and smiled.

"Perfectly happy," responded Angelus.

*

-

*

_Dragon Ball _and _Dragon Ball Z_ was created by Akira Toriayama, published in Weekly Shonen Jump, and animated by Toei Animations. In America, _Dragon Ball_ and _Dragon Ball Z_ were published by Viz and translated by FUNimation.


	16. V i

The Twin Pines parking lot was empty, except for the white-haired radiation-suit-clad scientist and his teenage radiation-suit-clad cameraman.

"I, Dr. Emmett Brown, am about to embark on an historic journey." He paused for a moment. "What am I thinking? I almost forgot—"

Doc Brown was cut off when gun shot suddenly emerged from the distant silence.

"What the hell was that?" said Marty.

"Oh my God, they found me. I don't know how, but they found me. Run for it, Marty!"

"Who, who?"

"Who do you think? The Libyans!"

Marty swore.

But when a figure finally emerged from the distance, he was not a Libyan, but a thin Caucasian police officer.

"Well, that's strange," said Doc Brown. "Why would a police officer have a shotgun?"

The officer continued to head for Marty, not taking his eyes off him.

Nervously, Marty began to back towards Doc Brown's DeLorean.

"Are you in trouble with the law, Marty?" asked Doc Brown.

"No!" said Marty. "I don't know why he's staring at me." He glanced back at the cop. "But he's starting to creep me out."

Doc Brown glanced from Marty to the cop. "To be perfectly honest, he's having that effect on me, too." He stepped in front of former, facing the latter. "Excuse me? I don't mean to intrude, but was there a reason that you were firing live ammo in a parking lot?"

"There were Libyan terrorists plotting to kill you," responded the cop. "I had to kill them first."

"Oh. Well that's… wait… what?"

"There was no other choice. They said you stole Plutonium from them."

"But you're a police officer! You're not supposed to just shoot people like that!"

The officer sidestepped around Doc Brown. "I need the boy."

He continued walking towards Marty, but Doc Brown grabbed his arm.

"Now, wait a minute. Who do you think you are, anyway? The Terminator?"

Without hesitating, the officer swung his arm upwards into Doc Brown's chest, and a bloodied metallic blade sprung out through the doctor's back.

"Holy shit!" said Marty.

Without thinking, Marty dove into the DeLorean and rammed down on the pedal. Glancing through the rear-view window, he thought he saw the officer grab the car's back bumper and actually hold the vehicle back. But after a few seconds, the car broke free and tore away from the killer.

"This is a dream," chanted Marty to himself. "It's all a dream. Any minute now, I'm going to wake up."

Glancing back through the window, Marty saw the cop running after him. He screamed, then he stomped harder on the pedal.

The car began to speed up.

85 miles per hour.

86 mph.

87.

88.

Then the world outside seemed to vanish.

*

_O rose, thou art sick!_

_The invisible worm,_

_That flies in the night,_

_In the howling storm,_

_-_

_Has found out thy bed_

_Of Crimson joy,_

_And his dark secret love_

_Does thy life destroy._

_-_

--_William Blake, "The Sick Rose" in_ Songs of Experience.

-

Shipping is Serious Business

Square dropped Buffy, Xander, Willow, Giles, and Illyria on a road in the middle of a field.

"Where are we?" said Willow.

"I wish I knew," said someone else.

The gang turned around. "Someone else" was not from the original Scooby gang, but was, in fact, Michael J. Fox.

"It's the Bearer," said Buffy.

"You're lost too, then?" he said. "What is this? Some kind of Libyan prison island or something?"

"No," said Buffy. "It's…"

"Well, let's look at the facts," said Xander. "We have a young Michael J. Fox, wearing a radiation suit, standing in a field, and without any idea what he's doing. Either this is a Very Special drug episode of _Family Ties_, or _Back to the Future_."

"What are you talking about?" asked Marty.

"Your name's Marty McFly, right?" said Xander.

"Yeah, that's right," said Marty McFly. "Why? What's going on?"

"You're in the year 1955," said Xander. "The Doc's time machine…"

"Of _course!_" said Marty. "The DeLorean. God! I was so scared of that cop, I forgot that this thing is a time machine."

"Cop?" said Buffy.

"You don't know about the cop?" said Marty. "You seemed to know about everything else."

"There wasn't a cop in the movie," said Buffy.

"Movie?"

"What did this police officer look like?" said Giles.

"Well, let's see," said Marty. "He was a young guy. Kinda thin. Oh. And I… I think he had a giant blade for a hand."

"You _think_?" said Xander. "Can't you remember that sort of thing?"

"Or it turned into a blade," said Marty. "I don't know."

"Any ideas who that is?" said Giles.

"Sounds like a Terminator," said Xander.

"What? Like, in the movie?" said Marty. "No, I saw that movie, and this thing did _not_ look like Schwarzenegger."

"I mean from the sequel," said Xander.

"But there isn't a sequel... yet. Why would a character from a movie that isn't even out yet be trying to kill me? And why would he save me first?"

"Because he knew you'd escape the terrorists," said Buffy. "He hoped you wouldn't escape him."

Marty looked over everyone. "You're not from the 80s, are you?"

"Well, we were _born_ in the 80s," said Xander.

"I was born in the 50s," said Giles. "But…"

"And I was alive when the first humans crawled out of the primordial ooze onto my land to take their first breathe of air," said Illyria.

Marty's face dropped. "What's going on here?"

This is where Buffy explained to Marty exactly what was going on. He was surprisingly open to everything she said. Perhaps it's because having just witnessed the murder of Doctor Brown by a metallic monster, then being thrown back through time several decades, had knocked out the part of his brain that was supposed to control skepticism.

Or perhaps he just pretended to go along with everything they said because he was afraid they'd grow violent if he didn't.

"So, there's no other way?" he said.

"I'm afraid not," said Giles.

"Damn. Well, if I'd die anyway, I guess I have to. When do we go?"

"Immediately," said Buffy.

"No, we can't," said Giles. "I've been looking through Square's books on time travel, and, according to them, we can't leave until Marty has returned to his own time. If we pull him out of the time loop now, it will negate any effects he was supposed to have on this timeline. Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but doesn't he still have to ensure his own birth?"

"Why would I need to do that?" said Marty. "Are you saying I arranged the marriage of my own parents?"

"No," said Xander. "_I_ have actually seen the movie, so I know that, as long as you don't push your father out of the way of a speeding car, everything will work out fine."

"Unless the Terminator kills one of his parents," said Giles.

"Or the other Marty," added Willow.

"Other Marty? There's two of me?"

"You went back in time twice," said Xander. "I mean, you will come back later to…"

"Quiet," said Giles. "If you influence his behavior, then you might create a time paradox that could destroy the universe. In fact, we're extremely lucky that stopping him from saving his father hasn't killed us all."

"Wow," said Marty. "This is heavy."

"How do we even know whether the other Marty will show up?" said Willow. "I mean, which time line are we in?"

"I don't know," said Giles. "If what Xander says is true, taking this Marty away—providing we don't receive any assistance from the other one—might simply erase the second Marty. On the other hand, there's no telling what ways the other Marty could influence us. If he helps us take this one, however indirectly, we'll create a time paradox, thereby destroying this Universe and killing both Marties."

"Huh?" said Xander, Buffy, and Marty.

"I'll just say that, if the other Marty appears in this timeline, we'll have to take him with us instead. In the mean time, we have to stop anyone else from doing anything that could cause a paradox."

"Wait," said Willow. "If the First Evil killed Marty's parents, and Marty wasn't born, won't that just cause the Battery to go into someone else?"

"Letting my parents die should _not_ be Plan A!" protested Marty.

"And it doesn't work that way," said Giles. "Since Marty was born, and physically exists, here and now, before his birth, the energy followed him back to this time, and is inside him now. If his parent's don't get together, then Marty will be wiped out of existence, but the energy won't re-distribute itself. It will be as if Marty had just died. Of course, if we return him to his own time before taking him from this world, all of this will become moot—killing his parent will stop his birth, and the energy will go—or, rather, would have gone—into someone else. At least, that's what the books said."

"And besides," said Marty, "we can't let Mom and Dad die!"

"Err… right," said Giles. "Sorry if I seem callous. It's just that, with so many bigger things to worry about…"

"Then we have three different people to protect in this world," said Buffy.

"Right," said Giles. "So I suggest we form teams. Illyria, you can keep an eye on Marty's mom. Xander, you work with Buffy to watch his dad. Now, that leaves me and Willow to keep an eye on Marty."

"Sounds like a plan," said Xander. "Possibly because it is. Now, if memory serves, me, Buff, and Illyria will have to go to the café so that we can find George and follow him to Lorraine. Marty will have to show us where it is."

"What café?"

"The one that was torn down by the time you were born. I think he owned an aerobics suite in your time. What was his name… Lou?"

"Oh!" said Marty. "I know what you mean. That used to be a café?"

"We'd better hope so," said Giles. "Can you take us there?"

"Sure, no problem," said Marty.

So the young boy took them to the café.

"Thanks," said Buffy. "You should probably find Doc Brown and work on getting back to your own time."

"Yeah, good idea," said Marty. "Say… where does Doc live?"

"Uhh…"

"Check the phone book in the café," said Xander.

So they went inside the café. The scenes from the movie replayed fairly accurately; Marty looked through the phone book and nonchalantly tore a page out of it without Lou so much as noticing, then tried to figure out where 1640 Riverside Drive was while he drank his coffee.

"You think I could order a coke without destroying the Universe?" said Xander.

"I don't know," said Giles. "But soda's bad for you anyway."

Then Biff Tannen arrived and began pushing around George, just like in the film, while George tried feebly to keep his oppressor as happy as he could.

"You know, I've always wanted to slug Biff," said Buffy.

"Me too," said Xander. "I would now, but he's still big."

Buffy looked back at the scene.

"Doesn't look too big for me," she said.

"Do you realize what would happen if I hand in my homework with your handwriting?" Biff said to George. "I'd get kicked…"

"You know, not everyone likes the sound of your voice that much," said Buffy.

Biff turned sharply towards Buffy. "Oh, yeah? Well, I don't like the sound of you much, either. That's okay, though. What I want to do with you, you won't need your voice."

Buffy began to get to her feet, but Giles pulled her back.

"Hold on," he said, "Haven't you ever read 'A Sound of Thunder?' If you're not careful, you could still prevent Marty's birth, no matter how indirectly. It's best not to let your temper cloud your judgement."

Biff laughed. "What's this limey going on about? 'It's best not to let your temper cloud your judgement?' What, is he afraid the Americans are going to _kick his country__'__s ass_ again?"

Then Giles helped Buffy back to her feet. "Just be careful not to break anything."

Biff walked forward until his chest pressed against Buffy's, then leaned forward until his face was less than a half-inch from hers. "You actually think you could beat me up?"

"Sure," said Buffy. "But only in self-defense. I have morals, you know."

"Well that's too bad," said Biff, grabbing both her arms. "Because that's going to make this more difficult."

Buffy was getting ready to show him just how difficult things would be when she noticed George McFly leaving. Swearing quietly to herself, she elbowed Biff into the cabinet and followed after, Xander and Illyria close behind.

They eventually arrived in Lorraine's neighborhood. George was hiding in the trees with a set of binoculars, watching some woman change her clothes.

"God, I forgot what a pervert he is," muttered Buffy.

Then George fell out of the tree and in front of a moving car. Of course, Marty was not present this time, and those that were knew that George would survive if he were hit.

But he wasn't.

From the distance, Buffy could see a man push George out of the way, and get hit himself. Lorraine's father got out of the car and helped the man to his feet.

"Who the hell had blue hair in the 50s?" said Xander, squinting.

"That is James of Team Rocket," said Illyria. "The First Evil must have sent him to seduce Marty's mother, thereby preventing her from wedding and, eventually, fornicating with George."

"Oh, bad," said Xander.

James was talking with the driver as if they were the best of friends. Only when Lorraine's father pointed out that James had just been hit by a car did he suddenly begin limping. The older man put his arm around James and helped him into the house.

"I have to keep an eye on Lorraine," said Illyria. "Since James is in her house, I will take care of him while I am there." She then leaned over and kissed Xander on the cheek. "Please try not to die before I see you again."

The demoness walked down towards the house.

Buffy held back a chuckle.

*

"I'm sorry my dad hit you with his car," said Lorraine.

"Oh, that's okay," said James, stretching out on Lorraine's floor. "This wasn't the first time I've been hit by a big, heavy object. Did I tell you I'm a professional Karateka?"

"Oh, wow! What's that?"

"It means I take part in karate tournaments for a living." Then James grabbed Lorraine's chin under his hand and began to stroke her face. "But I've always considered myself more of a lover."

"Oh," said Lorraine, blushing. "It's too bad you can't do that for a living."

And they both laughed. The gaiety was interrupted by a knock at the door, so James screamed and leapt back into the bed, where people with injured legs belong.

"Lorraine?" said her mother's voice. "We have company!"

"Who is it?"

"Some girl named Fred. She says she's here looking for James."

"Oh," said Lorraine sadly. "You didn't tell me you had a girlfriend."

"That's because I don't!" said James. _This had better not be Jessie__'__s idea of a joke_, he thought. "Tell her I'm too sick to come down!" he shouted to Lorraine's mom.

"But she's already forced her way into the house."

"Do you know her?" said Lorraine.

"She's just a friend," said James. "A completely platonic friend."

James turned to the door with a frown, expecting Jessie to come in, but it was someone else entirely who forced her way into the room.

"Aaahh!" shouted James. "You!"

"Oh, James!" It was Illyria, though her hair was now brown, and her mannerisms more human. "Thank heavens I found you! You worried the bejeebus out of me when you disappeared. Mom and Dad are worried sick."

"You're not my sister!" screamed James. "I'm an only child!"

"You'll have to forgive my brother," said Illyria. "He tends to disown family members when he's angry at them. It's something he shoulda grown out of in his teens, but what are ya gonna do?"

"He is in his teens," said Lorraine. "He said he's only sixteen, like me."

"He really said that?" said Illyria. "Well, he does look young enough to pass for sixteen. He's like Luke Perry in that way."

"Who?" said James and Lorraine.

"Sorry, I've never been that great with jokes," said Illyria. She then grabbed James' wrist and started pulling him to the door. "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to talk to my brother about siblingly things."

"Wait!" said Lorraine, grabbing James by the other wrist. "Will I see you again?"

"Of course," said James. "In fact, I'm not leaving now. I'm a grown man, and I don't answer to Mommy and Daddy."

Illyria tightened her grip, trying to figure out a way to yank James from Lorraine without looking like a psychopath. "But James, you really should come home. It's about your cat."

"My cat?" shrieked James. "Meowth!?"

"That's such a cute name for a cat," said Lorraine, finally letting go of James' arm.

"What's wrong with Meowth!?" shouted James.

"The poor thing got into a fight with Spike."

"Spike?" said Lorraine. "Is that your dog?"

"Neighbors' dog," replied Illyria. "I'm afraid Meowth is in rough shape. The neighbors took him in to care for him, but I'm not sure he's safe in the same house as Spike or Angel or Buffy or any of those other big dogs. But the neighbors said, since we're not the cat's proper owner, they won't give him back to us. They won't let Meowth go unless you come with me."

A look of horror spread across James' face as he deciphered the message. Reluctantly, he nodded and followed Illyria off the property. Once the two of them, James faking a limp, had gotten past Lorraine's parents and fairly far from the house, Illyria suddenly grabbed him by the neck and lifted him against a brick wall. Her hair turned blue again as she did.

"Now let Meowth go!" shouted James.

"We do not have your cat," said Illyria. "That was a story I created so that I could remove your from Lorraine's room without compromising my role as her protector. Given her increased hormone count in your presence, I assumed that telling her of your moral deficiencies would be ineffective."

"So you tricked me!" said James. "I'm impressed."

"Your flattery is neither appreciated nor warranted, given your intellectual shortcomings." Then, without warning, Illyria raised her fist and rammed it hard into James' face. She struck with so much force his skull left a visible indent as it was smashed against the wall behind it. Illyria felt his nose being flattened beneath her knuckles, and as she pulled her hand back, she saw that his face had been smooshed into his head. But then he pulled his head from the wall, and his face soon returned to its normal shape.

"What was that for!?" he shouted.

"I was trying to kill you," she responded. "But those from your world seem surprisingly resilient to physical force."

"You can't kill me! You're the good guy!" protested James. "Are you a sociopath or something? Though that would explain the second personality."

"This is who I am," said Illyria. "Fred was a girl whose body I inhabited and soul I destroyed when I was resurrected. I was simply channeling her memories to recreate her personality and appear more inviting to the family."

"You what!?" shouted James. "That's horrible! The good guys in your world are even worse than the bad guys in mine!"

"You are trying to murder someone, and yet you consider yourself better than other murderers."

"What murder? I'm just sweeping a young girl off her feet. You have a problem with young love!?"

"You're twisting logic. Adjusting your own morals around your actions, but trying to pretend you've been guided by your beliefs. Marty has already been born. In fact, he is in this time period right now. If you stop his mother from marrying his father, Marty will die, and it will be as if you have murdered him."

"No. Technically, nothing the First has told me to do is actually illegal. And I will be darned if I'll let you pro-life extremists get in the way of my paycheck!"

"You seem unconcerned with the fact that I could crush your head between my hands as easily as if I were cracking a hollow egg shell."

"You couldn't. You'd never get away with it!"

"There are only humans around. They are weak vermin, so far beneath me that fighting them would be like walking through an ant colony. They could not stop me from killing you or taking Lorraine."

"Oh, it's not the humans I'm thinking about." James pulled out a purple Pokéball with an "M" on it.

*

"I really built a time machine?" said Doc Brown. "That's amazing!"

"Wait!" said Willow. "You aren't supposed to believe us. Don't you need proof? Don't you want to hear about President Reagan or the flux capacitor?"

"Well, normally, I'd be more skeptical," said Doc Brown, "but I've seen so much weird shit today that I really don't believe in the impossible anymore. Reagan? Really?"

"Ummm… what kind of weird… stuff?" asked Giles.

"Glad you asked," said Doc Brown, slapping Giles on the back. "Just today, I was visited by the first interdimensional traveler to enter our Universe, and he asked _me_ to act as ambassador."

"Really?" said Giles. "Could you describe this traveler?"

"Well, now I'm afraid that you might be the one that wouldn't believe me if I did. I'll show him to you, but be warned: he's very unusual."

The doctor led the trio to his lab. There, they found a chair, rocking back and forth slightly.

"We have visitors," said Doc Brown.

Then the chair turned around to reveal its furry occupant.

Willow gasped. "Oh, shoot! Not you again."

"Dat's right!" answered Meowth.

*

"I have to keep an eye on Lorraine," said Illyria. "Since James is in her house, I will take care of him while I am there." She then leaned over and kissed Xander on the cheek. "Please try not to die before I see you again."

The demoness then began to walk down towards the house.

Buffy held back a chuckle.

"Hey, I didn't laugh when Spike crushed on you," said Xander.

"Oh, come on," said Buffy. "Illyria seems like a nice ghoul."

"It's just not right, okay? Before Gunn died, he told me things about her I'd rather not repeat. Besides, she knows that I've broken things off between us. Why's she still acting like this?"

"She's new to this whole romance thing. She still has to figure out to deal with rejection.

Buffy arrived on the street and helped George back to his feet. And, no, that's not a mistake; he actually just sat on the ground until Buffy and Xander arrived.

"Thanks," he said dejectedly, then walked down the street, away from Lorraine's house. Buffy and Xander followed him. "You know, I wish I was like that guy with the blue hair."

"You mean that you had blue hair?" said Buffy.

"No," said George. "I mean the toughness. He gets hit by a car, and what's he do? He just gets up and walks into the man's house. If that car hit me, I'd probably be dead now."

"Not necessarily," said Xander. "I mean, maybe if you had been hit by that car, you'd survive, fall in love with the man's daughter, get married, and give birth to the first man to… I don't know, the first man to travel through time."

Buffy glared at Xander.

George laughed. "You're too idealistic," he said.

"Well, the world could use some idealism, if you ask me," said Xander. "Look at you. You're a smart man. A bit in your shell, perhaps, but nothing you can't fix. I say you should go for it!"

"You're right, whoever you are!" said George. "I will! Go for what?"

"You know! _It_! Start by getting a girlfriend."

"Oh! But who?"

"You know," said Buffy, "I hear that Lorraine… uh…"

Forgetting Lorraine's maiden name, Buffy nudged Xander. Several times, actually, before he got the hint.

"Oh. Baines. Lorraine Baines," said Xander. "The aforementioned daughter. I hear she's easy."

"She's _what_?" said George.

"He means she's easy to talk to and get to know," said Buffy, barely hiding her annoyance. "Maybe you should think about asking her out?"

"Gee, I don't know," said George. "I mean, I barely know her…"

"Then get to know her!" said Xander. "Come on, George. She might be your soul mate!"

George didn't answer, but instead stared silently forward, obviously distracted by something more interested than Xander's soul mate talk. Xander and Buffy followed his eyes to the other half of Team Rocket, leaning seductively against a street light and wearing a skirt that stretched to somewhere between her thighs and her belt.

"Hello, there," she said seductively, then winked at George. "You know, you're pretty cute. How would you like to take me out to dinner?"

"How… would I!?" exclaimed George.

"You wouldn't," said Xander, walking George past the street light. "You should date someone closer to your own age."

"I'll have you know I am fifteen," said Jessie coldly.

"Uh-huh, yeah," said Buffy. "Like Andrea Zukerman."

"Like who?" said Jessie and George.

"Oh, never mind."

"She's too old for you," said Xander.

"But she's good looking," said George. "And you said that I should go for it."

"Yeah," said Xander. "Go for it—not buy it."

Jessie drove Xander's head into the ground with a mallet, then stepped on his back and grabbed George by the hands.

"Please, George," she said, her big, blue eyes sparkling like a pair of crystals. "I'm not good with men or relationships. All my life I've been abused by big, handsome, selfish men. Just once, I'd like to date a nice, weak guy."

"Don't listen to her!" shouted Buffy. "Come on, who approaches random teenagers on the street and proposes to them like this?"

"You did," said George.

"I… well, that's because we know that Lorraine is the right woman for you."

"But I don't even know Lorraine. But this girl, oh, she needs my help. And, well, I want to help, because I _am _a nice guy. A really nice guy!" He turned to Jessie. "Come to the theatre with me! I'll prove it!"

"Pick me up at eight?" said Jessie.

"Sure," said Buffy. "He'll meet you at the hospital."

"Don't be silly!" responded Jessie tersely as she shoved George roughly aside and took a step towards the Slayer. "I'm not taking you to the hospital, I'm taking you to the morgue."

"Right. You and what army?"

"That's it! It's on like Porygon!"

"Wow," said George. "I've never had two beautiful women fight over me before. Even if only one actually wants me."

"What can I say?" said Xander. "Shipping is serious business."

Jessie pulled out a purple Pokéball.

*

"I take it the cat isn't a friend of yours," said Marty.

"Nuh-huh," said Willow. "This is not a good cat at all. This is a very bad cat."

"I'm insulted," said Meowth. "What did I eva' do ta you?"

"You tried to kill Brian!" said Willow.

Meowth shook his head. "Brian was a dog dat had ta be put ta sleep," he said to Doc Brown.

"Ah, I see," said the doctor. "Her pet?"

"No. She's weird that way."

"And you tried to destroy the Universe!" said Willow. "I mean, I know that sounds silly, but it's true!"

Meowth crossed his arms and nodded contently. "See? Just a bunch of propaganda. 'Dis is why no one takes PETA seriously."

"What's PETA?" asked Doc Brown.

"Never mind that," said Giles. "You'll have to forgive Willow. You see, she's… er, how do I say this?"

Fortunately, Willow was no such thing, and caught Giles' hint immediately. A talking cat was an amazing scientific discovery, and, if Doc Brown were forced to choose between the parties, he'd be bias towards the amazing scientific discovery. If Doc was going to help the Scoobies, he'd need to think they were Meowth's friends. She promptly faced Meowth and began to wag her finger at him. "You know, kitty, Santa isn't going to like this."

"Gadzooks!" said Doc Brown. "Santa Claus is real in your dimension?"

"You mean he isn't real here?" said Willow, pouting.

"Er, yes, of course he is," said Giles. "Mr. Brown, if you come into the back with me, I'll explain everything to you."

Willow waited until Giles had left, then turned back to Meowth.

"Okay, so what's your plan?" she said. "Are you planning to interfere with Doc so that Marty doesn't get back to his own time?"

"Of course not," said Meowth. "Da First gave me very important instructions."

"What?" said Marty.

"Keep outta Jess and Jim's way," he said sadly.

"Oh," said Willow. "I'm sorry. I mean, now how about you tell me what Jess and Jim are up to?"

"Yeah, right," said Meowth. "And what are you gonna do ta make me? Without da Slayer here, you couldn't beat a Magikarp."

"Doesn't matter," said Willow. "When the Slayer does get here, she'll beat you like a Magnemite in an Earthquake."

"Not bad," said Meowth. "Someone's been doin' her Poké-research. But you made one mistake: ya shoulda said _if _she gets back."

"What do you…"

Before Willow could finish, Giles and Doc Brown stepped back into the room.

"Sorry about the confusion, Willow," said Doc Brown slowly. "Of course Santa is real in my world."

"Oh, good," said Willow. "Say, why did Kitty choose you to act as ambassador? Don't those jobs usually go to people in politics?"

"Why, yes, they do. That is a very good point, Willow. And I admit, I was a bit surprised myself. But, in this case, Meowth…" Doc began to speak more awkwardly. "He had a favour he wanted done, and offered me the position in exchange for my doing it."

"I see,' said Giles. "And what was the 'favour," exactly?"

"He said that he wanted me to study ghosts," said Doc Brown.

"Why ghosts?" said Marty.

"Yes," said Giles. "Why ghosts, Kitty?"

"Specifically, he wants to know how to make them solid," said Doc Brown.

"So he can bring back the First," said Giles to himself.

"The who?"

"The First… dog he killed," said Giles. "You should've seen how broken up the family was when they arrived to pick up their missing dog, just days after it was put down."

"Dat's right," said Meowth. "I'm a noble soul, and I wanna undo what little pain I've caused."

"The problem is that there aren't any ghosts in this dimension," said Doc Brown. "Or if there are, I'm having a devil of a time finding them."

"Dere are plenty a ghosts in my world," said Meowth. "Some people even keep 'em as pets! What if you came back with me?"

"You can't!" said Giles. "If you aren't around in the 80s to build the time machine that sends Marty back here, it'll create a temporal paradox."

"And then the Universe would be destroyed," said Doc Brown. "Well, I suppose I could wait a few decades and help Meowth later,"

"No, you can't!" said Meowth. "Ghosts have very short life spans in my world. Being dead 'aint good for ya, ya know."

"No, I wouldn't imagine it would be. Perhaps if I had more time… oh, of course! How silly of me. If I can help Marty, I'll have all the time in the world! Quick! Do you still have the time machine?"

"Well, not on me," said Marty. "But I remember where I hid it."

"Perfect," said Doc Brown. "Then all I have to do is fix it up, send you into the future, then come back and help Meowth here with his ghost problem." Doc Brown then turned to the cat. "Why don't you go outside and wait for me? I mean the future me. I should be there by now."

"But…"

"Now, Kitty, it's not polite to argue," said Willow. "Remember, the good doctor is trying to help you."

Meowth glared at Willow, then slumped his shoulders and walked out of the room.

*

But Doc Brown wasn't there.

"Den I guess 'dis means dat kid ain't gonna get back to da future," said Meowth.

*

James threw his ball. "Go, Dialga!"

From the ball emerged a seventeen-foot quadruped. Looking like a roughly sketched dragon in white armor, the Pokémon's dark-blue skin seemed to be made of metal. The creature let out a deafening howl that itself would have sent most men to their grave.

"I've already defeated your other monsters," said Illyria. "What makes you think I can't defeat this one?"

"Call it a hunch," said James. "Dialga! Roar of Time!"

That was all Illyria would be able to remember before losing consciousness.

*

"Go, Palkia!" shouted Jessie.

Palkia looked like a shiny silver dragon with fins, an elongated head, and a few thin purple stripes. At twice the height of a human, it was one dangerous-looking Pocket Monster.

"Okay, that's kinda big," said Buffy.

"Jesus!" said Xander. "It's the size of a bus!"

"It's not just big," said Jessie. "Palkia is the rarest and most powerful Pokémon short of Arceus himself!"

"Really?" said Buffy. "Even stronger than the power of friendship and love?"

"Huh?" Jessie looked confused. "What do you think this is, a Saturday Morning Cartoon?"

Buffy pulled out two red-and-white Pokéballs. "We'll see. Go, whatever you things are!"

A black snake and a sentient cactus emerged from their respective balls, shouting what sounded like "Seviper!" and "Cacnea!" respectively.

"Okay, Seviper? Cacnea?" said Buffy. "Attack Palkia!"

Seviper and Cacnea looked at Jessie, then turned to Buffy.

Seviper lunged at the Slayer and wrapped around her torso with such suddenness she dropped the Pokéball. Cacnea pointed its arms out and began to pelt Buffy with needle projectiles.

"Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!" laughed Jessie. "Nice try, but that's not going to work. A Pokémon's loyalty is with its trainer, and not with whoever happens to be holding the balls."

Buffy turned around quickly, shoving Seviper's face into the path of Cacnea's needle barrage. As the snake was being hit, Buffy was able to squeeze out and kick Seviper into the cactus, knocking both into a state of swirl-eyed unconsciousness.

"Cacnea! Seviper! Return!" Jessie held out two Pokéballs, then each one released a beam of light that absorbed the Pokémon. "Now go, Palkia!"

Palkia charged forward and grabbed Buffy's wrists. The Slayer tried to struggle, but the creature was simply too strong, even for her.

"You're not really going to kill her, are you?" said George.

"Of course not," said Jessie. "_Palkia_ is going to kill her."

"Oh, I don't think I can date a murderer," said George, turning on his heels and walking away. "I'd better go home."

"Go!?" shouted Jessie. "You can't go! My boss told me to get you!"

"Why would he say… wait a minute! Is that the only reason you said all those things?"

"No, you're just that irresistible!" shouted Jessie angrily.

Then, with almost super-human speed, Jessie threw a sac over George's body and slung it over her shoulder.

Buffy struggled harder against Palkia. "Let me go."

"Oh, are you still moving?" said Jessie. "Palkia? Spacial Rend!"

*

"Where am I?" moaned Buffy.

"It's okay," said a familiar feminine voice. "You're in a motel."

Buffy could feel a hand brushing tenderly against the side of her face.

"Why am I here? What happened?"

"I don't know. There was a lot of collateral damage near your body, so I think you were attacked. Don't worry, though. Whatever did this to you is gone. The monsters probably thought you were dead and left."

Buffy, still only partially conscious, began to moan. "I had the weirdest nightmare. And, with my life, it takes an awful lot for anything to qualify as weird. And, interestingly enough, nightmare."

"Well, you just concentrate on getting better. Until then, Mom will take care of you."

Buffy's eyes shot open.

"Mom!?" she said, looking into her mother's eyes.

*

-

*

_Back to the Future_ is owned by Universal Studios.

The T-1000 and _The Terminatior_ were originally owned and distributed by Orion Pictures, and are currently copyrighted by Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer.


	17. IV ii

An Angel Versus A Monk? The Battle for Goku's Soul. 

Angel's new location did not make him happy, despite what Bulma had asked of the dragon. Granted, he had enjoyed his stint at Wolfram and Hart a bit more than he should have, but that didn't mean that a giant office was his idea of bliss.

And the red-skinned giant, browsing through a stack of papers and glancing at Angel periodically, did not help.

"Where am I?" asked Angel.

"Shhhh!" A nerdier human-sized demon waved his hands back and forth, trying to silence Angel. "Don't disturb King Yama when he's looking through the files!"

"Yama?" said Angel to himself. "The Chinese God of the Dead."

Angel tried to recall what had happened in life, but his last moments seemed blurry, like the end of a half-remembered dream. The last thing he could remember was Bulma wishing he'd be happy for once.

"Oh," said Angel. Or, rather, Angel's soul.

"That's funny," said Yama. "I can't find you in here anywhere."

"You've looked through all the names already?" said Angel.

"I've been doing this for centuries," said Yama. "I'm a fast reader. Now you answer my question: why aren't you in my files?"

"I'm not from around here," said Angel.

"You're from another world, you mean?" said King Yama. "Oh, phooey. Do you know how long it'll take for me in import your files? And _that's_ assuming you can tell me the name of your world! You'd be surprised how many people don't even know such basic information."

"I heard the First Evil call my world the Whedonverse," said Angel. "Try looking into that first."

Yama relayed this message to his clerk as Angel continued to ponder his fate.

"But if my soul's here," he said to himself under his breath, "then Angelus must be…"

"And what was _that_ about?"

Angel was swung around and pushed into one of the legs of the desk. Bulma, squeezing his shoulders tightly, glared into his eyes.

"Answer me, mister," she said. "What did you do that for?"

"I didn't do anything!" said Angel. "That wasn't me… it was… well, it was sort of me, but not really…"

"I don't want to hear any stupid excuses," said Bulma. "Now tell me, was that you who just killed me, or wasn't it?"

"Well, me…" said Angel. "But…"

"What?" boomed King Yama? "Killing? Well, I'm afraid that's a ticket straight to HFIL."

"HFIL? What's…"

But Angel's question was cut off as a trap door opened beneath him.

*

Angel—followed by Bulma—walked into Master Roshi's house just under three hours after their departure.

"So, how'd it go?" said Faith.

"Not good," said Angel.

Master Roshi was able to peel his vision away from the aerobics instructors on his television long enough to look over the returning group. "Say, where's Goku?"

"Dead," said Bulma, almost casually.

"Again!?" said Master Roshi. "How?"

"The First Evil," said Angel.

"The First Evil?" said Spike. "Not a flunky? Ole' Can't Touch This itself?"

"It talked him into suicide," said Angel.

"Hmm, that doesn't sound like Goku at all," said Master Roshi. "Are you sure?"

"Positive," said Angel. "It told Goku that he's too strong, and no one would ever be able to challenge him in a fight again unless he went to the Other World and searched for warriors that have been training since the beginning of time."

Master Roshi hung his head. "Okay, that sounds a bit more like Goku."

"And what about the dragon?" said Faith. "Did the First make a wish?"

"Yeah," said Angel. "It wished that all the remaining Bearers would go to its world."

"It has its own world?" said Spike.

"Apparently."

"Well, I guess we'd better ask Square if…"

"Square won't be able to find it. I already asked. He said the First's world is hidden. Only magic can get us there."

"Then I guess we'll ask him to take us to some hocus pocus," said Faith.

"Hey!" said Bulma. "What about Baba?"

"Well, Baba _can_ travel between our world and the Other World," conceded Master Roshi. "She might be able to get you to the First Evil's place, but her help is too expensive. Well, unless you can defeat her strongest fighters, but… well, no offence, but none of you are strong enough to get by them."

"Not true," said Angel. "Spike is."

"I'm what!?" said Spike.

*

"They're what!?" said Cho-Chi.

"Dead," said Bulma.

"All of them?" said Chi-Chi. "How did that happen?"

"They were killed by a powerful demon known as The First Evil. Apparently, that demon was the reason Gohan disappeared. He was called to fight it, but he wasn't strong enough. All he did was make the First mad."

"No! Not Gohan!"

"I'm afraid so. And now that it knows about us, that monster will probably come after Goku next, so I'd better warn him. Why don't you find Videl?"

"What? Why don't I get Goku and you get Videl? He is _my_ husband, after all."

"Are you crazy? I'm not leaving this house without protection! You're a lot stronger than I am, so if anyone attacks you, you'll stand a chance."

Chi-Chi gave a short nod and told Bulma that Goku was still in bed before climbing into Bulma's hovercar.

Then Bulma made her way through the Son residence and into the bedroom. There she found Goku, snoring and drooling, a muscular torso and lone leg peeking out from under the sheets.

"Good morning, Goku," said Bulma alluringly.

The sleeping man awoke and glanced groggily at his would-be seductress. "Oh, hi, Bulma. What are you doing here?"

"I came to see you," she said, climbing into the bed.

"But couldn't it have waited until morning?"

"Don't worry," she said. "You won't need to get out of bed."

Bulma then undid her dress. Wearing nothing but her underwear, she climbed on top of Goku, then wrapped her limbs around him. Goku continued to stare in confusion.

"Say, Bulma, isn't this going to make Vegeta and Chi-Chi awful mad?"

"Don't be silly," said Bulma, rubbing her finger across Goku's chest. "They'd have to find out, first. Now come on. Don't you find me attractive?"

"Well, to be honest, I've never really thought about it," said Goku. "I guess if you like that kind of thing."

"_That kind of thing_? And what is that supposed to mean?"

"Well, you know. Kissing and stuff. Me? I've always just been more interested in fighting."

"You would." Bulma grew fangs, then bit into Goku's shoulder.

"Bulma? You forgot to give me the keys to your car." Chi-Chi threw open the door to her bedroom just in time to find Bulma on top of Goku, apparently kissing his neck. "What are you doing!?"

"It's not me!" said Goku. "Bulma just jumped on me, and…"

"I know, Goku," said Chi-Chi with a sigh. She knew as well as anyone how uninterested in "that kind of thing" her husband was. "I know you wouldn't cheat on me. But Bulma always was sort of a hussy."

"Hussy!?" screamed Bulma. "I'll have you know that I was not trying to sleep with him!"

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah, really!" Then Bulma's face changed. Her mouth sprung two fangs, small but sharp, and her forehead grew out, seemingly crushing her lids into a squint. "And I'll have you know that I'm much stronger now that I'm a vampire than I could ever have hoped to become as a human." Then she leapt at Chi-Chi.

And Chi-Chi kicked her in the chest, so Bulma went flying through the wall behind her.

"Hmph," said Chi-Chi. "She isn't _that_ much stronger."

"True," said Goku. "But you've gotta respect her energy."

Chi-Chi turned to her husband. "What do you mean? She tried to kill me!"

"She challenged you," he responded. "She was just trying to test out her new strength, and you're the one closest to her own power level. Makes a lot of sense, really."

Chi-Chi snorted. "Bulma knew that I was ten times stronger than her. Did she think being a vampire would make her that much tougher?"

"It's not about winning. All that's important is fighting a strong opponent. Getting a good fight. It's worth dying for. It's even worth killing for."

"What!" shouted Chi-Chi. "You've said some stupid things, Goku, but please tell me you're joking this time!"

"I'm dead serious. And my name isn't Goku." Then the Sayian's face turned vampiric, as Bulma's had before. "It's Kakarot."

Then he placed his fingers to his forehead, closed his eyes, and concentrated on locating the strongest kis on the planet. Having found them, he mentally latched onto their minds, then projected his thoughts into theirs:

_Warriors of Earth. This is Kakarot. Before now, I have gone under the inferior Earth name my human grandfather has given me. Now, my true Sayian instincts have been unlocked I will no longer serve as your protector. From now on, my only goal is to fight strong opponents. And you are the strongest the Earth has to offer. As soon as I'm done contacting you, I will hunt each of you down and fight you. If you want to survive, then you'll have to earn it by defeating me. Vegeta, since you are the strongest, I'll be coming for you last. I want to get a real challenge out of our fight, so you'd better spend that time training._

Then he lowered his hand, smiled, and flew off.

*

Finally, Spike and Faith arrived at the dome-shaped palace of stone that was Baba's place.

"You sure you don't wanna fight them, Angel?" said Spike. "Couldn't be any more dangerous than your driving."

"I never drove a hovercar before," said Angel. "I suppose were better the first time you got behind the wheel?"

"No," said Spike, climbing out. "But that's different. I was _trying_ to hit people."

"I didn't kill anyone," said Angel. "I mean, he got back up, didn't he?"

A small ghost in a straw hat floated over to greet them.

"Say! Aren't you the one who beat up Mr. Satan?" said the ghost.

Spike shrugged.

"I take it you want to fight Baba's champions?"

"Nope," said Spike, then pulled out a big wad of money. "Do you accept cash?"

"Of course," said the ghost with a look of surprise.

Once the fee had been paid, a short, witch-like woman emerged on a floating crystal ball.

"Funny," she said. "You lose to Mr. Satan on public television, then you show up here asking to pay your way past my fighters. Have you lost that much self-confidence after just one loss?"

"Just didn't want to strain myself," said Spike.

"Very wise. Now tell me, what is it you need to know?"

"What, aren't you the psychic?"

"AND HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO LOOK INTO THE FUTURE TO FIND OUT WHAT YOUR QUESTION IS IF YOU'RE NEVER GOING TO ASK IT!?" Then Baba cleared her throat. "Now, what do you need to know?"

"Actually, it's more along the lines of where we want to go," said Angel.

"What do I look like, a travel agent?" said Baba angrily.

"This is important!" said Angel. "Like, world in peril important!"

"Really?" said Baba. "Well, if it's that important, I'll just look into my crystal ball…"

"Oh well," interrupted Angel, "it was worth a try."

Angel leapt towards Baba, grabbed her head, and snapped her neck. By the time anyone could register what was happening, she was dead.

"Angel?" said Spike. "What the hell…"

"Angel's dead," said Faith, hollowed by her own realisation. "It's Angelus now."

"Yeah," said Angelus. "I thought it would be fun to keep it hidden longer, maybe see if she could get me to whatever world the First Evil is in, but the witch insisted on looking into her crystal ball. Too bad she didn't see that coming, eh?"

"God, you're stupid," said Spike. "You saw what the geezer did to me. What do you think he'll do when he finds out you killed his sister?"

"She'll be back," said Angelus. "She can travel between the worlds of the living and dead, remember? Not that it would matter if she couldn't. The geezer will be too busy being dead to care about what I'm doing."

Then, as if on cue, the sound of a giant explosion tore through the fields. In the west, a dirty grey mushroom cloud was rising above a scorched crater. What looked like yellow light and lightning was radiating from the area, and boulders were being lifted into the air. Perhaps most unnerving, however, was a force--unnoticed by any senses, but nonetheless very powerful--that seemed to be pushing against everyone. It was almost like a temperatureless wind was trying to move them away from the city.

Only after the group had recovered their senses did they remember Angelus.

But by then, he was gone.

"Thought you could escape, did you?"

Or perhaps he just moved.

Spike looked to his right, and found Angelus, being held in the air, by the throat, by a man with a scar on his face.

"Who are you?" said Angelus.

"Name's Yamcha," said Yamcha. "I'm a former student of Master Roshi. He asked me to check up on you. Good thing, too. What's happened, anyway?"

"Angel turned evil," said Spike. "It happens when he gets too happy. You know, getting laid and the like."

"Then I guess leaving him with Bulma was where you went wrong," said Yamcha. "As if we didn't have enough problems."

"Why?" said Faith. "What else happened? Why'd Roshi ask you to check up on us, anyway?"

Yamcha seemed reluctant to say anything else. His whole body shook, and his face turned to one of pain and fear. "Angel turned Bulma into a vampire, then she turned…" But Yamcha's next word wouldn't leave his mouth.

"What's wrong?" asked Faith.

"It's Goku!" said Yamcha. "He's a vampire, too. All this time, we got used to having him save us. Who'll save us from him?"

"We'll manage," said Faith. "Vamps tends to die when exposed to the sun. That should give most of you somewhere to hide from him. In the mean time, you'll need to get a lot of crosses and holy water. If you don't have any religions, now's the time to create one. Personally, I'm more concerned about the First Evil. He might still have the Bearers."

"Really?" said Angelus. "How do you know I didn't make that up?"

"I don't know," said Faith. "But we need to prepare for the worst."

"Why don't you ask Dende?" said Yamcha. "If anyone can help, I bet he can."

"Who's Dende?" asked Faith.

"Dende is the guardian of Earth," said Yamcha. "He lives on Kami's Lookout. Just get in the hovercar and drive to the Northwest. You should eventually see a giant pillar. He should be on top."

"Could you be more specific?" said Spike.

"That's the best I can do!" said Yamcha. "It's not like I carry a map around with me!"

"Why don't you come with us?" said Spike. "You can fly, right?"

"Sure, but what about him?" Yamcha shook Angelus. "Do you expect me to fly ahead of your hovercar, dragging him through the sky at supersonic speeds the whole time?"

"Sure."

"Well…" Yamcha looked at Angelus. "Okay."

"You're still a dick," said Angelus to Spike.

*

Angel landed in a large field, surrounded by green grass and bright sky. In the distance, he could see a red pool.

"What kind of Hell is this?" he said.

"'Tis hell, indeed," said Macbeth.

Surprised, Angel turned to the tyrant. He didn't know how long Macbeth had been here, but it had clearly been a while. The former king looked more like Hell than the actual Hell. His clothes—a surprisingly modern pair of sweatpants and an "HFIL" T-shirt—were horribly torn. His beard was partially missing, with bloody cuts in his flesh indicating this was not the result of a clean shave. The once determined, demoralising, and outright detestable face had been broken, leaving behind only shards of fear and remorse. Angel thought that, in this state, Macbeth made King Lear look like Oberon. He considered helping the pitiful wretch to his feet, but couldn't tell whether his legs were broken.

"If heaven contains the promise of bliss, eternal in both depth and length, then waiting merely one day for such a reward, once its existence has been tasted, must be Hell itself," said Macbeth. "So when you must wait a millennia, as I have, with no end 'fore the horizon, the pain is multiplied many times over by the hour. 'Tis a worse hell than I imagined."

"That's your idea of Hell? 'Cause, if so, I could tell you…"

"That and the beatings," said Macbeth.

"Oh."

"Well, look what we have hear," said an effeminate voice. "It would seem our playmate has made a new friend."

"Well, then, maybe we should invite him to play with us," said another, slightly more aristocratic-sounding voice.

Angel turned around. The effeminate voice had come from a creepy albino alien-like creature with purple glass-like orbs on her (at least, the alien sounded like a her) head, chest, shoulders, and legs. Her or his or, for simplification purposes, its companion was another albino (_what is it with this show and evil albinos? _thought Angel) wearing green armour which was, in turn, covered by another layer of black armour. He also wore a vaguely papal hat and a set of wings.

"My lord!" said Angel. Then he turned to Macbeth. "These freaks aren't the ones you're talking about, are they?"

"What do you mean freaks!?" said the glass orb monster.

"You know," said Angel, hoping desperately that these guys (or guy and girl—he wasn't really sure anymore) were not part of the Superhuman Society, "I'm in a good mood, so I'm going to give you a chance to leave before I hurt you."

The two albinos just laughed. That wasn't reassuring, but Angel went ahead and punched the glass orb one in the face anyway. It was like punching a brick wall, but with the added consequence of making him realise that the brick wall was about to tear his head off.

Next thing Angel knew, the green guy had appeared behind him.

The vampire closed his eyes tightly and waited for the bone-crunching snaps, but they didn't come. Instead, he heard a whoosh, followed by two smacks.

When he opened his eyes, Goku was standing over him, and the two villains were getting to their feet several meters away. The hero's forehead was more pronounced than it had been when he was being channelled by the First, and his hair, now easily three times its original length, had turned golden.

Goku turned to the glass orb alien. "Really, Freiza, have you become so pathetic that you have to resort to beating on people this weak for fun?" Then he turned to the green one. "And Cell. I thought you fought for the challenge. But now look at you! Reduced to beating up the defenceless."

"Hey!" said Angel.

Freiza and Cell both stood still as statues, looking at Goku.

"Go on, Cell," said Freiza. "You killed him once. Now's your chance to do it again."

"No, no," said Cell. "It's your turn."

Goku grinned. "What's wrong? Scared?"

Freiza flinched, then flew away. Cell soon followed.

Goku laughed. "Those two guys used to be really scary."

"Hard to believe," lied Angel. "So, you're a pretty big hero around here, right?"

"I guess you could say that."

"Then please tell me you're here to get me out of this place."

"Actually, I don't think I'm allowed to. I'm just here because King Kai told me there was a vampire in HFIL that I should talk to." Goku scratched the back of his head awkwardly. "To be honest, I really have no idea how I died."

"So you're dead, too?"

Goku pointed to a halo that was floating above his head. "I must be."

"But you don't know how? What's the last thing you remember?"

"I don't know. It's strange. Bulma was crawling on my bed…"

"Bulma?" Angel almost felt his still heart stop even more. "Bulma's dead. She was turned into a vampire by Angelus."

"Really?" said Goku. "Wow! You think that has something to do with my death?"

"Yeah, unfortunately, it probably does!" said Angel. "It probably means she turned you into a vampire. And that means that, right now, while your soul's down here, there's a vamp with your body--and your powers--running around up there, fulfilling everything your Id could ever desire."

"Gee, that could be bad," said Goku. "By the way, what's an Id?"

Angel slapped his hand to his face. "A vampire has no morals. It just does whatever it wants, even if it has to kill people to get it."

"Oh, that's all?" said Goku. "Well, I can't think of anything I'd want, even if I was willing to kill people."

"Vampires also like drinking blood."

"Oh. Then I guess this is bad. I have a pretty big appetite, you know."

"It may not be as bad as you fear," said an approaching stranger.

A thirtysomething Hispanic man in the habit of a monk approached Angel and Goku. As his dark eyes looked past his nose towards Goku's innocent face, he somehow reminded Angel of an eagle eyeing up a monkey. It was unnatural, and probably dangerous for the eagle, but Angel didn't doubt that there was a deeper, sinister plan brewing behind the eyes.

"If your instincts and desires drive you to do something, I see no reason you shouldn't do it."

"And who the hell are you?" said Angel.

"My name is Ambrosio," said Ambrosio. "I am a monk from…"

"From the novel _The Monk_, by Matthew Gregory Lewis?" finished Angel. "I've read it. Provided me with more inspiration than I'd care to admit. But what are you doing here? Since when does Satan transfer sinners to other Hells?"

"I am here to converse with Goku," said Ambrosio. "That's not a sin."

"Then you couldn't possibly have any interest in doing it," said Angel. "Get lost."

"Why do you speak so harshly? My sole wish is to help this poor soul make the most of his desires. He has worked hard and gave much to many people. I think he deserves to take some back."

"Well, gee, I don't want to take anything," said Goku. "I just do those things because they're right."

"I, too, believed so, once," said Ambrosio. "But then I learned that right and wrong are not inherent in any man. I sinned greatly when I thought I could not be caught, though I was a pillar of moral strength. Now you have no limitations. You're the strongest man the world knows. Nothing can stop you from fulfilling your desires."

"You play with lies more dangerous than fire," said Macbeth weakly. "I once thought as you do, that one who can see to their will should, and those unable to mount a defence deserve it not. Yet since then have I seen how I erred--nay; I have not seen, but felt it, every day for a century of centuries have I felt the pains of Hell and the absence of Heaven."

"You fear Hell only because God and Satan have power over you," said Ambrosio. "When one has the might of this warrior--" He motioned to Goku "--he needs fear neither Heaven nor Hell."

"Verily, but…" Macbeth tried to think of a response. "Zounds, thou art right!"

"Don't listen to them!" said Angel. "There's more to doing the right thing than getting into Heaven!"

"Of course there is," said Goku. "Gee, is that what they were trying to say? I wasn't really paying attention, because of how funny they were talking."

"You are a fool!" said Ambrosio. "You grew up under law and God, fearing retribution to all your sins, and now that you have surpassed your masters and Lord, you continue to act under their reign."

"Huh?" said Goku. "It's not raining."

Ambrosio looked like he was about to slug Goku across the jaw, but then decided that breaking his own hand would not be productive.

"Do you truly have all you've ever wanted?"

"Yeah," said Goku.

"You've never envied your friends or family?"

"Well, sure I have," said Goku.

"Indeed!" said Ambrosio. "Then you've known jealousy!"

"Really?" said Goku. "Is that what you call it when you want someone else's wife to--"

"Yes!" said Ambrosio. "And why don't you get what you desire?"

"Well, I don't know," said Goku. "I suppose that I could ask 18..."

"You should _demand_ it!" said Ambrosio.

"Gee, I don't think she'd like _that_. Neither would Krillin."

"And what of that?" shouted Ambrosio. "What he likes is no longer your concern!"

Goku closed his eyes to think. "That doesn't sound right…"

"You can't listen to this guy!" shouted Angel. "He's a murderer and a rapist!"

"Well, some of my best friends were murderers," said Goku. "That doesn't mean they can't change. And what's a rapist?"

"Oh, boy," said Angel, wondering how he could explain this one. "You know what sex is? Well, rape is when you have sex with someone that doesn't want to."

"Oh, I see," said Goku. "Like when I agreed to have sex with Chi-Chi, even though I didn't really…"

"No, you're missing the point," said Angel. "Rape is one of the worst things you can do to a person."

"And why?" said Ambrosio. "When consent is there, sex brings bliss. Why would the lack thereof create sin?"

"Are you serious!?" said Angel. "I actually have to _explain_ to you why rape is a crime!?"

"To them, it's a crime, but so sweet to I," said Ambrosio. "Yet laws cater to them, not I. If Goku can bypass his morals and live your own, why shouldn't he?"

"Because he's not an asshole, for one thing," said Angel.

I, too, once believed myself to be beyond such evil," said Ambrosio. "The thought of sin had never touched my mind. My desires remained as pure as those of a babe. Yet it was all for naught; the moment lust touched my heart, my purity was stained." He then turned to Goku. "This fellow has never sinned because he has never desired sin. Who's to say temptation wouldn't break his virtue as it did mine?"

"Trust me, it won't," said Angel.

"Your researching skills are lacking, Angel," said Ambrosio. "Goku has given into temptation before, and at great risk to others. He's just been lucky so far."

"When did I give into temptation?" said Goku.

"When you saved Piccolo from death," said Ambrosio. "You wanted a strong rival, and risked the lives of millions to keep one. I killed a family; you could have killed a people."

"When there's only one, it's pronounced person," said Goku.

"He means you could have wiped out the entire country," said Angel. "Please tell me he's lying."

"Piccolo didn't kill anyone," said Goku. "I knew that, as long as there was someone stronger than him, he wouldn't dare."

"He's not lying," said Angel.

"But, you know, things have always turned out pretty well. So, really, I don't think I ever did anything wrong."

"That's not how right and wrong work!"

"Huh? You mean I should want things to turn out badly?"

"No, I…" But Angel didn't know where to go from there. Sometimes, you lose an argument not because your opponent is too smart or clever, but because your audience is just too thick to understand your point.

*

Once Faith and Spike had arrived on top of the tower, the "Guardian of Earth" that Yamcha had been so fond of reassigned them to a wise old cat named Karin. After initial protests, Dende assured the duo that Karin was much more experienced than he was with such matters, and would be by far the better choice. So they met Karin and described the problem to him.

"That is bad," said Karin. "But the good news is that you don't have to worry about that second wish. It was used up before the First Evil could make it."

"Finally, some good news," said Faith. "Now all we need to do is find the Bearer. Don't suppose you have a list of everyone who's never died?"

"It's not that simple." said Karin. " Killing the Bearer in this world won't destroy the Battery. It will just send both to the other world. I believe that, at this point, the First Evil will try to manipulate Goku into killing him again. Only after the Bearer's second death will the Battery die."

"Wait, get Goku to kill him?" said Faith. "Isn't he the good guy? And how do we know he isn't the Bearer?"

"Goku is a very pure soul," said Karin, "but he's not that bright. Even now, the First Evil has a minion in HFIL, trying to slowly corrupt Goku so that he will be capable of wiping out the Bearer's existence. That's assuming he isn't the Bearer himself, though I'm sure the First Evil has a plan for that, too."

"So that's why the First Evil vamped Bulma?" said Faith.

"Actually, that was an accident," said Karin. "The First Evil wanted to use the Dragon Balls to wipe Buffy out of existence. But after Angel turned into Angelus, _he _used up the last wish to revive Buffy's mother. Don't ask me why—I couldn't tell you. But until that happened, I don't think the First even planned to kill the Bearer in this world."

The revelation about Buffy's mom would have warranted some discussion on any other occasion, but now it barely registered. "Why didn't the First Evil make its wish first?" said Faith.

"Because it was too busy taunting Angelus," said Karin. "Of course, that doesn't mean we can rest. Right now, Kakarot's a much bigger problem than the First. I don't know a lot about Bearers or Batteries, but what I do know tells me that they tend to be central characters in their own series. That means that, if Kakarot really is going to fight all the strongest fighters on Earth, he's going to get the Bearer, sooner or later."

*

"This is insane," said Krillin, heaving a heavy suitcase into the back of his hovercar. "I can't believe I'll have to fight Goku." He looked sadly at his wife and daughter. He missed the days when he would only have to worry about himself until Goku arrived. Now the most bearable parts of waiting for the apocalypse were gone.

"Everything will be okay," said his daughter, Marron. "Remember, we still have Vegeta."

"Yeah, but Vegeta can't go Super-Saiyan 3. Goku can."

"Couldn't Vegeta just keep away from Goku until he runs out of energy?" suggested Marron. "Then he'd have a chance!"

Krillin smiled weakly. His daughter had never shown much interest in fighting, so she didn't understand that Vegeta could not possibly survive 30 minutes against Kakarot. Kakarot could kill Vegeta in one punch, and was so much faster that his opponent may as well stand still for all the good his evasion tactics would do him. With Goku's inhibitions gone, this wasn't even a real fight.

Still, if Marron had hope, she was better off than he was. "Sure. I'll bet Vegeta will do just that."

Krillin walked to the front of his car and kissed his wife on the cheek. "Take good care of Marron. And try to stay in the sun. That way, Goku can't reach you."

"You be careful, too," said 18.

Krillin sighed and began to turn around, but halfway thought the motion he heard the sudden sound of air being pushed aside. He recognised that sound.

Something had just materialised nearby.

"Hello, Krillin," said Kakarot, placing his arm around the shorter man's shoulder. "How's everything goin'?"

"Oh, well, you know…"

"Not good, huh?" Kakarot took his arm off Krillin, then smiled at 18. "You know, you disappointed me."

"You don't say," said 18.

"Sure," said Kakarot. "For three years, I was looking forward to fighting the androids. I mean, yeah, Cell was a nice challenge, but I'll always feel kind of empty, knowing that I never had a chance to fight you or your brother. Then it occurred to me. You're still alive. He's… well, he was alive until a few minutes ago."

"You monster!" shouted 18. She kicked the door off the car and stepped out, her aura glowing.

"Well, isn't that nice?" said Kakarot. "I'm going to borrow your wife for a sec, Krillin. Hope you don't mind."

"No!" shouted Krillin.

"Thanks."

"Look into your heart, Goku. Surely you have _some_ good left!"

"Don't worry," said Kakarot. "You two will be together soon enough."

Krillin growled, then he rocketed forward and smashed his fist into Kakarot's head.

Kakarot didn't even budge. Then he stood upright and turned around. His eyes were perhaps the scariest thing Krillin had ever seen. Those were familiar eyes. He'd seen them on many Sayians fighting many people. Piccolo. Vegeta. Freiza. Cell. Those eyes had beaten all of those monsters.

And now they were on him.

He swallowed hard and put all his energy into firing a blast straight through this creature's torso. But Kakarot's own blast was so much larger and more powerful, it was like using a flashlight to repel a thunderbolt.

Krillin's biggest regret was that he had such a quick death. He felt guilty, because he didn't think 18 would get the same luxury.

*

"What's your name?" said Angelus. "Yama, was it?"

"Yamcha."

"Oh yeah. Funny how I could make that mistake."

Yamcha grunted, then tightened his hold on Angelus's neck. After showing the others to Kami's lookout, he had offered to keep an eye on Angelus. Though they eventually consented, they were surprisingly reluctant. Despite Yamcha's power, Spike and Faith both insisted that Angelus was too dangerous. So far, however, he'd just proved annoying.

"Don't think I couldn't pop your head off," said Yamcha.

"Oh, I know that," said Angelus. "I'm even lower on this world's Richter scale than you. I guess that's why they threw you a bone and let you help by keeping an eye on me."

"I don't need to prove anything to anyone," said Yamcha.

"Well, that's damn good, isn't it?" said Angelus.

Yamcha squeezed tighter, unintentionally crushing some of Angelus' neck bones.

"No offence," said Angelus. "Hey, I'm on your side. You're a strong guy. Much stronger than me. How much did you train? Twenty-three hours a day? I can't imagine. In my world, anyone that did that, and became as strong as you, would be something. You should get mobbed by girls wherever you go. It's just sad, really, that Goku's genetics made him stronger than you. Tell me, is that why Bulma left you?"

"How did you--?"

"I could tell by the way you spoke about her, shall we say, sexually libertarian tendencies. Now answer my question."

"No. It just didn't work out."

"Ah, I see. Now, out of curiosity, tell me: did she leave you for one of the six people on the planet that's stronger than you?"

"She left me for Vegeta!" blurted Yamcha. "Vegeta! The same Vegeta that killed me!"

"Ouch," said Angel. "But that is how it works in the animal kingdom. He beat you, he's the Alpha Male, and you get dumped."

"That's not it," said Yamcha. "She just loved him more."

"Of course. I'm sure Vegeta became a real sweetheart later on. Probably even started a charity. Fathers For the Families of Victims of Vegeta."

"I know what you mean!"

"I feel sorry for you, though. I mean, that Bulma was pretty hot. Easy, too. She actually offered to do me on the way back! Of course, I don't usually sleep with someone that old. Unless they were sired at a younger age, I mean."

"Shut up!"

"Oh, sorry, did I offend you? I didn't mean to, you know. I just think it's unfair. A beefcake like you? You should be the one saving the world. Instead, look at you! A crappy nobody. No girlfriend, am I right? Probably live in a ditch…"

"A ditch? Ha! I guess your research fell flat there, Angelus. I'm a millionaire baseball player! I'm world famous! What do I have to be upset about?"

"Wow! I was way off, wasn't I? But tell me, did you get that scar in baseball practice? Did you train until you could bench-press a dump truck in case the team's bus gets stuck in a ditch? No. You may be famous at baseball, but in the one area you really care about, you're not. No one even knows who you really are. It's almost tragic, except most tragic heroes had some prestige to start out with. You? You're Sancho Panza at the most. No one important thinks much of you, they never had, and they never will. Even Tom Stoppard isn't writing any plays about you."

Yamcha began to tighten his grip, then released it. Angelus dropped to his feet and stepped back, but didn't run.

"You know, the strongest doesn't always have to win."

"But what can I do against someone like Goku?"

"You're not fighting Goku. You're fighting Kakarot. A vampire."

"So? Hey! Yeah! Like when Upa and Puar fought Dracula! They weren't strong, but all they had to do was hold up a cross to weaken him! Oh course! If I just get a cross, Go—I mean, Kakarot will become weak enough for me to kill him! Then I'll finally be the hero!"

"Good thinking, champ," responded Angelus.

Then, without giving the lesser vampire a second thought, Yamcha flew off and disappeared over the horizon.

Angelus sat on the ground. "I wonder if Yamcha knows that vampires are only hurt when they actually touch the cross? It'll be funny if he doesn't."

*

"You know," said King Yamma, as Yamcha stepped into his office, "I'm probably going to be laughing about that one for a long time."

Then the lighting started to dim.

No, not the lighting after all. The light.

*

"This is bad," said Karin.

"I assumed it was," said Spike. "Care to clarify how bad?"

"Reality itself is flickering," said Karin. "Soon, the glue that holds the universes together will dissolve, and reality will shatter. This can only mean that one of the Bearers is dying. We've lost."


	18. V ii

The Unlikely Messiah

"Mom?"

Buffy sat upright, then glared at the apparition.

"Damn! Doesn't the ultimate evil have anything better to do than watch me sleep?"

"Buffy! I thought you had outgrown that phase," responded 'Joyce.'

"Seriously, what are you here for? Trying to talk me into suicide or something?"

"Why would I do that? Buffy? Is something wrong?"

Buffy stared at the figure, rubbing her own cheek slowly. She reached out and rested her hand on the figure's solid shoulder.

"Mom!" Buffy grabbed her mom and, forgetting herself, hugged her with all her strength.

"Buffy!? Watch it! _I'm_ not a Slayer, you know."

"Sorry. It's just… what are you doing back?"

"Back?" Joyce walked to the window. "Have I been here before? Where is this, anyway?" She turned back to Buffy. "Oh no. This isn't a memory spell of some sort, is it? Is there a wizard involved?"

"No," said Buffy. "We're actually in another world, and we haven't been here before. It's just that… well, remember that brain tumour?"

"Oh god, how could I forget? Why?"

Buffy's throat hurt as she swallowed. This wasn't an easy memory to relive, even now. "It killed you."

"Killed?" Joyce seemed to laugh to herself, but her smile vanished when she saw Buffy's serious face. "Killed? I'm… dead?"

"You were," said Buffy. "But something brought you back." As Buffy's brain processed this new information, other memories began to push their way to the top.

"Xander!"

"What about him?"

"He was with me," said Buffy. "Did you see him?"

"No," said Joyce. "When I found you, there was no one else there."

"Great." Buffy slumped back down in the bed. "What did that woman do with him?"

"Attention Slayer and Slayerettes!" boomed James' voice from outside. "We have your friend."

Joyce turned out the window and gasped. "Oh my god! I think they gouged out Xander's eye!"

Instinctively, Buffy jumped to her feet and looked out the window. A vaguely Meowth-shaped balloon was hovering in clear view overtop the city. A giant video screen was hanging beneath it by a rope, showing Xander tied to a chair while Team Rocket—with Meowth wearing a fake moustache—threateningly wielded power tools around him.

"If you ever want to see him alive again, do not interfere with our plans," said James. "If you cooperate with us, we'll let him go. We are men of our word."

Jessie giggled. "Good one, James! I think they might actually believe that!"

James swatted himself in the face before the screen went blank.

*

"Funny," said Doc Brown. "That cat looked a lot like Meowth."

"Looked _like_ Meowth?" said Giles.

"Well, I don't think it actually _is_ Meowth. He would have to be pretty stupid to think a moustache would disguise _his_ identity, considering he thought he was the only talking cat in this world."

Doc Brown looked back at the running video of his future self. "Damn. I might have missed something important." He pushed the rewind button.

"Say," said Marty, "Wasn't that guy in the chair your friend?"

"Yes," said Giles. "And, apparently, we are the 'Slayerettes.'"

"Well, what are you going to do? I mean, you can't just leave him there."

"First, we're going to retrieve that time machine," said Giles. "Then we can stop Xander from being kidnapped in the first place."

"Wait!" interrupted Doc Brown. "What did I just say?" He rewound the tape.

"No, no, no, this sucker's electrical, but I need a nuclear reaction to generate the 1.21 jiggawatts of electricity that I need," said the other Doc Brown.

"Oh, don't worry about that," said Willow. "I can control lightning."

"Well, I'm afraid that lightning won't be enough," said Doc Brown. "Now, if we could find some plutonium--"

"She actually can control lightning," said Giles.

"Oh," said Doc Brown. "Good. Well, then all we have to do is reassemble the time machine."

"No problem," said Marty. "We'll go get it."

*

"Big problem," said Marty.

"Huh," said Willow. "I don't remember you being that bad a driver."

"I'm not!" said Marty. "I didn't do this." He looked over the pile of metal. It was like Picasso had tried to make a car using only glue and a set of blueprints drawn by Dr. Seuss. He wasn't exactly a mechanic, but it was obvious that building a new car would be easier than repairing this one.

"Then who did?" asked Willow.

Then the top layer of the DeLorean turned a metallic silver and began to rise, slowly forming a humanoid. It eventually took on a fully human shape and stepped off the car as the silver shell took on the texture of a man.

"That's him!" said Marty. "The one that killed Doc! Please, Willow, tell me you've seen the second _Terminator _movie."

"Funny," said Willow. "I was just kinda wishing I hadn't."

Giles turned to her. "Well, how do we stop it?"

The T-1000 lunged at Marty, but he was able to duck beneath the creature's arms and slip through the car windows. As he tried to sneak out the other door, a giant knife smashed through behind him. Deciding to sacrifice stealth for speed, Marty kicked the door off its one remaining hinge and ran as quickly as he could towards the nearest town.

"Where are you going?" shouted Willow.

"Wherever he isn't!" shouted Marty, still running. "And do me a favour! If you have any friends with really strong superpowers, now's the time to get them!"

Just then, the temperature surrounding the T-1000 dropped to below zero. The creature's body was encased in ice and fell forward, shattering against the ground like a jigsaw man.

"That spell won't kill him!" shouted Willow. "But it should slow him down for a while. For now, see if you can lure him to a steel mill or something!"

_A steel mill_? Thought Marty. "There's no steel mill in Hill Valley!"

"Then go for the something," said Willow. "In the mean time, I'll contact the others and see if we can come up with a backup plan."

*

"Where are you going?" asked Joyce.

"I'm going to talk to them," said Buffy.

"Has that ever worked?"

"Never tried it, really, but I don't think we have much of a choice. As much as I hate to admit it, I'll never be able to take down that Pokémon of theirs. Still, I don't think that Larry, Curly, and Moesha there really want to destroy the Universes. Not while they live in one of them. The First Evil is probably leaving out some very important bits of information. If I can prove it, maybe they'll release Xander."

"Okay. But do you know where to find them?"

"…No," said Buffy. "But, if I know cartoon villains, they'll leave a hint behind somewhere. I just have to find it."

Buffy looked back out the window and watched as the Meowth Balloon landed on the school gymnasium.

"I wonder if they actually are that stupid?" she said.

"Be careful, hon," said Joyce. "Remember, they almost killed you once."

"I couldn't forget if I wanted," said Buffy.

*

"You know, it's funny," said Xander. "I've never pegged you two for the destroy-the-world types."

"What do you mean destroy-the-world?" said James.

"And whattya mean 'two?'" said Meowth.

"Well, what did you think the First Evil wanted to do?"

"We just thought he wanted to take over his world," said James.

"Wait a minute," said Jessie. "Why would anyone or anything want to _destroy_ the world? Doesn't it live there?"

"Or unlive, as da case may be," said Meowth.

"Well, it's planning to stay in Oz," said Xander.

"Oz?" said Meowth. "Would dat work?"

"I guess that, at this point, anything's possible," said James. "And we have been suspicious of the First Evil ever since that incident with Dimentio."

"Don't tell the good guys that!" shouted Jessie. "Do you want them to try and turn the forces of evil against each other?"

Suddenly, James took on a very solemn face as he looked regretfully at his partner. "I'm sorry about this, Jess," he said, almost kindly.

"Sorry about what?" asked Jessie.

"Dis!"

Meowth jumped out from behind James, pointing what looked like a bazooka at Jessie. There was an explosion of smoke, and a net flew out. It wrapped around Jessie's entire body and she fell to the floor, too weighed down to move.

James began to untie Xander.

"I'm glad someone here has some sense," said Xander.

"I may be evil," said James, "but destroying _everything_ is beyond even me."

"Besides," said Meowth, "do ya tink we want da First as our supreme leader? We ain't stupid."

As Meowth spoke, he undid a large brown sack. George McFly fell out.

"Stop going through my things!" shouted Jessie.

George pulled himself to his feet. "Thanks for the help," said George. "Where are we?"

"We're at your school," said James.

"Oh!" said George. "Good! Then I can find my way home."

"Wait!" said Xander. "Remember Lorraine!"

"What about her?" said George.

"You have to make her fall in love with you!"

"But Lorraine still loves me," said James.

"Oh, this is starting to get awkward," said George. "I'd better leave now." George headed to the door, but stopped and turned to James. "I just want you to know that I wouldn't disrespect your relationship with Lorraine for--"

At that moment, the door flew open, and George was crushed between it and the wall.

Buffy walked into the room. "I'm here to talk… oh. It seems that you guys have taken care of everything." She looked at Jessie, growling from inside the net. "At least, I hope. Nothing kinky's going on, is it?"

"Ow!" screamed George. "Oh… What was that?"

Buffy cupped her hands over her mouth as the hurt man limped out from behind the door. "Oh, I'm so sorry. I didn't know you were there."

"It's okay," said George, then clenched his teeth and grabbed his arm. "I think it's broke, though."

"But what about the prom?" said Xander.

"I'll have to miss it," said George. "My parents would never let me go out with a broken arm."

"Are you sure?" said Buffy. "What if you begged?"

"I don't think that would work," said George.

"Okay," said Jessie, sighing. "Let's say for one moment that all this apocalypse stuff is the real deal. I think the answer to your problem is obvious."

"And we're trusting you because…?" said Xander.

"I'd trust Jessie with my life," said James.

"Me too," said Meowth. He then whispered to Xander: "Because if I didn't, she'd treat me to a fate worse dan death."

(Xander noticed, with some discomfort, that Meowth seemed to stay on his shoulders just a little too long and rub him just a little too much. He really couldn't wait to take a long, hot shower.)

"I'll admit, I'm not exactly thrilled with the direction our career is taking, either," said Jessie. "If we can escape our concrete contract by helping you stop the First Evil, we'll be happy to leave the firm and return to a life of freelance villainy. So, if you promise that you won't get any of us killed or maimed, we'll help."

"Deal."

"Good. Now, you say that your goal is to get Lorraine to fall for that George dweeb. What if we got someone that looks like George to go to the dance with her?"

"Any suggestions?" said Xander.

"Sure." Jessie smiled. "James?"

James smiled back, then pulled a dressing board out from behind his back, ducked behind it, and stepped out a few seconds later wearing a wig and a set of 50s clothing.

"Yeah, that's not gonna work," said Xander.

"And why not?" said James.

"They look nothing alike. Even ignoring the fact that George isn't a cartoon."

"Well if you don't like my idea, fine!" snapped Jessie.

"But what if he drove her into George's arms?" said Xander. "If you're a really terrible date, and if you keep badmouthing him, then she might start dating him out of spite."

"Well, that's practical," said James. "If there's one thing I'm good at, it's repelling people!"

*

Soon after entering the city limits, Marty was able to confiscate and create a makeshift skateboard, which he was soon using to speed through the city. The T-1000 continued to follow him, but was losing distance.

Marty glanced back, then smiled. "What's the matter? Can't keep up?"

The T-1000 stepped into the street. A car screeched to a halt moments before hitting him. The driver then stuck his head out the window and began to scream and swear at the machine.

"Don't do that," said Marty to himself, but it would have been too late even if he had spoken up. The T-1000 grabbed the man and pulled him out through the window, then tossed him brutally into the sidewalk. The Terminator then climbed into the car and drove straight towards Marty.

"Oh shit," said Marty, who then began to push forward as quickly as he could. As another car passed by, Marty moved behind it and grabbed onto the back. He was gaining speed, but he didn't want to do anything to endanger the driver, so he let go of the car and, using the momentum he gained from the ride, climbed onto the front of the T-1000's vehicle.

Marty could still only stare at the T-1000. The android responded by pulling his arm, now taking the form of a blade, into view and jabbing it forward. Marty rolled to the side just in time to avoid the metal blade and shards of glass.

The T-1000 looked past Marty, then pushed hard on the accelerator. Marty glanced to the front quickly, then turned his eyes back to the T-1000 just in time to avoid another jab. Even in that split second, though, he saw what he needed to.

There was a truck in front, slowly drifting closer to the car.

Marty could only think of one thing to do. He pulled himself into a quadruped-like position and scurried onto the roof, then across to the back.

The car crashed into the back of the truck, and the contents--obscene amounts of manure--dumped out onto the T-1000.

Marty was thrown forward, but fortune must have been smiling on--or at least snickering at--him that day, because he crashed into the comparatively soft pile instead of the hard concrete. He was physically unhurt, and was soon running down the block to escape his pursuer.

After several minutes, he turned around to see how close the monster was. It wasn't even in view.

"I lost him!?" said Marty. "Great! Where did he go?" Then he realised exactly where the creature had probably gone. "Oh, shit!"

*

Doc Brown looked back up at the wrecked DeLorean sitting in the middle of his garage. "Why did I have to design this thing so that it had to go 88 miles an hour? With the thing in this shape, I'll be lucky if I can get it going at all."

Just then, his door flung open. The T-1000 stepped into the room.

"Who are Marty's parents?" he said.

"You think I'm going to answer that?" said Doc Brown. "Forget it. I'd die before I'd help you."

The T-1000 formed his arm into a metal blade, then began to walk towards the elderly doctor.

"Not so fast!" shouted Jessie.

The redhead stepped out from behind the door, holding a purple ball in her hand.

"Sorry to interfere," she said, "but I decided to leave the First Evil for a rival company. Here's my resignation. Go, Palkia!"

She threw the ball to the ground, and it opened up to reveal the monstrous Pokémon.

"Now, Palkia!" shouted Jessie. "Spacial Rend!"

The Pokémon raised its claw into the air and charged at the T-1000, releasing a howl so horrible, it felt as if the very space in the room were reverberating with the thunderous echoes. Doc Brown forced himself against the wall and stared in awe. He'd never believed in God before, but seeing such a magnificent creature before him, raising its claw as if the power of a nebula were contained within, convinced him that the universe had wonders that could equal or surpass the deity he'd always doubted, and this magnificent beast was one of them.

"Palkia!" shouted Jessie's voice from the T-1000's mouth. "Turn around!"

Palkia stopped, then turned around and knocked Jessie through the back wall. The T-1000 picked up Jessie's dropped Master Ball and pulled Palkia back into it.

Then it turned back to kill Doc Brown.

But the doctor was already gone.

*

James looked behind himself to see if he could spot any hints of the Scooby Gang's presence, but there was none. Willow had promised to mask herself and the others with an invisibility spell, and it was too good for James' well-trained eyes.

He turned back to the door just as it opened, getting him in the nose.

"Oh!" said Lorraine. "I'm so sorry."

"No, that's okay," said James, still gripping his nose. "My fault."

"Gee, you're so gallant."

"Thanks… I mean, no, I'm not! Why don't you _look_ when you open the door next time? You're even clumsier than George McFly!"

"Oh, James," said Lorraine, laughing and hooking her arm through his. "You have such a great sense of humour. Why, I bet you could be the next Jerry Lewis."

"But I was serious," said James pathetically.

Lorraine laughed and squeezed tighter. "You are so funny. Where did you want to go on our date?"

James cringed. The censors would kill him if he ever found out about this. "Well, I was thinking my bed."

"Sounds good," said Lorraine.

"It _does?!"_ said James, wondering why he couldn't have this much luck with other women. "I mean… great! I have all the Village People's albums! We can listen to them all night! I bet that loser George hasn't even heard of the Village People!"

"Gee, I haven't heard of them either."

"No… I guess you haven't. I mean, how stupid can you be? But then I guess that's just one more thing you have in common with George."

"Are they any good?"

James shook his head. "The Village People are too good for you. We'd better see a movie instead."

"Sure! I'll bet a funnyman like you is just dying to see the new Abbot and Costello movie. Are you a fan of mummies?"

It sounded like she was baiting him for a pun. He didn't bite.

"Not really," said James. "I prefer musicals."

"Oh, really? Like Fred Astaire?"

"No."

"Sure you do. Everyone loves a good Astaire film. I think the Essex Theatre is showing _Daddy Long Legs_. Why don't we see that?"

James frantically tried to think what he could do to turn Lorraine off him. "But I don't have any money."

"Well, we could sneak into the theatre!"

"What!?" said James. "I mean, what a great idea! I'll sneak into the manager's office."

"Why would you want to do that?"

"Well, if he isn't tied and gagged, we might get caught."

Lorraine just laughed again, and James tried to figure out how he could make sure that she saw the tied-and-gagged manager on her way out of the movie.

But he didn't have time to finish his thoughts. Out of the corner of his eye, James saw the T-1000 marching down the street, raising a shotgun. Instinctively, James threw himself across Lorraine's body.

"Oh! James!" she said. "Not in public."

Then there was a gunshot. James felt his body weaken and fall on top of Lorraine's. It took a few seconds for her to see the Terminator and figure out what had happened, but when she did, her grief was instantaneous. James never thought anyone would cry over his body like that. Especially not someone he had met so recently, and especially not someone he had tried so hard to repulse. And yet there she was, kneeling by his side, holding his head on her knees.

Yet James could only think about how very sorry the T-1000 would be.

*

"James!"

There must have been some loyalty among thieves, because when James went down, Jessie was the first one out of the invisibility field and Meowth was the second.

The T-1000 pointed his gun at Jessie, but lost it and his right arm as she pulled a hammer from her back pocket and swung. What followed was a farce; Jessie proceeded to beat the T-1000. Beat wasn't even accurate; she was practically liquefying it. Jessie was now dedicating every muscle in her body to smashing the T-1000 and his bits of liquid metal, whether doing so would accomplish anything or not. Five minutes ago, this would have seemed like suicide for any human, but the cartoon adrenaline seems to have brought her abilities to a metahuman level. The T-1000 survived and constantly reformed, but Jessie was detaching vital limbs too quickly for the machine to retaliate.

Meanwhile, Meowth went straight for James.

Marty stepped out of the invisibility field. "Well, at least we don't have to worry about…"

A discarded portion of the T-1000's torso had turned to liquid metal, leaving behind the Master Ball. His dismembered hand opened the ball before returning to its body.

Palkia appeared, glaring down at Marty.

"Kill him," said the T-1000 in Jessie's voice.

Palkia lunged towards Marty and grabbed his arms with its forepaws. Buffy grabbed Palkia's right arm and tried to pull it off, but she couldn't move it. Palkia opened its mouth, and an orange sparkle began to glow inside.

Suddenly, Xander charged towards the Master Ball.

"Hey!" shouted Xander. "Look at me! I'm about to pull you back inside the ball so that you won't be able to kill him! Then we're playing baseball!"

Palkia turned around, relaxing its grip long enough for Marty to pull himself free. The Pokémon fired a yellow beam from its mouth. Xander only barely had time to leap out of the way.

Illyria took the opportunity to grab the beast by its tail and fling it away from the theatre. She walked back towards the Pokéball, but Palkia reappeared suddenly and knocked her out of the way with a single swipe from its arm.

It turned back to Marty and stared.

"Isn't there any way to kill it?" said Marty.

Illyria hit Palkia in the head with a lamppost. The creature reeled forward, but only slightly, then roared and swatted her away.

"We have a problem," said Buffy. "It's too strong for us to hurt, and too fast to capture. Any suggestions?"

"Well, if we all run for it at once…" said Marty.

"Anything that won't lead to our death?" she finished.

"Of course!" said Xander. "Why haven't I thought of it before?"

"What?" said Buffy.

"Hey! You!" shouted Xander. "The redhead! Jessie! Tell your pet to stand down!"

Jessie smashed the T-1000's head into a nearby wall. "What? Oh, right! Palkia! Cool it!"

"No!" responded the T-1000, again in Jessie's voice. "Kill--"

"Who asked you?" said Jessie, smashing the T-1000's head further through the wall.

Buffy grabbed the Master Ball, then pointed it at Palkia.

"Okay, you. Return!"

The ball emitted a red light, and Palkia obediently allowed itself to be beamed into the ball.

"Great!" said Willow. "Now for the backup plan. Marty?"

"Yeah, fine," said Marty. "But after that, no more letting mutants chase me. Okay?"

"With any luck," said Buffy.

"I'm serious. Next time, you're the bait."

"Just go," said Giles.

"Oh! Wait." Willow recited a spell to herself. A small skateboard appeared on the ground."

"Use this," she said.

"Thanks," said Marty, stepping on the board and heading into just outside the perimeter of Jessie's rampage. "Hey! Lady! Stop beating that thing up for a minute!"

"Why should I?" said Jessie.

"We have to lure it away and kill it!"

"Fine," she said. "Just make sure it's painful."

Once the T-1000 reformed, he looked at Marty. "You don't have the weapons to kill me."

"We'll see," said Marty.

*

"James!" shouted Meowth. "Jimmy boy. Are you okay?"

"Not really," said James weakly. "I might not get to blast off again."

"Don't say dat!" shouted Meowth. "You've been through worse dan dis before! All dose explosions and falls…"

"It's not the same," said James. "That bullet must have hit an organ or something. I'm..."

"You're fine!" shouted Meowth. "Team Rocket can't die! We're like dat Terminator. Get blown apart, but come back together."

Jessie shoved Lorraine aside and sat at James' side opposite Meowth.

"James!" she said. "Listen to me! You are _not_ dying on me. I'm not travelling around the world alone with Meowth."

"Sorry," said James, "but I don't exactly have a choice in the matter. But it's okay. My only regret is that I never accomplished anything with my life. If I had more time, you know what I'd do? I'd leave Team Rocket, and I'd open my own business. I'd have to work for a few years to earn the money, but eventually I'd have my own store. I think I'd make a good proprietor at a flower shop, don't you?"

"You mean you will make a good proprietor," said Jessie. "We'll even join you! Meowth and me. I'll be manager, and you'll be the cashier…"

James moaned and closed his eyes.

"Okay! Okay! You can be the manager!" shouted Jessie, tears rolling down her face. "Just pull through, James! You can be the fucking President if you want!"

James chuckled, then placed his hand on her mouth. "Don't cry, Jess," said James. "Just make sure my sacrifice isn't in vain. There aren't a lot of people in these universes that I care about, but the few that do matter to me… well, they were worth dying for."

"I understand," said Jessie. "I'll make sure the First Evil is stopped, even if I die trying."

"Me too," said Meowth. "Even if it costs me all nine lives."

Then James closed his eyes and became still.

"Poor James," said Lorraine. "He gave his life for me. I don't know if I'll ever be able to forget him."

_*_

"_This is bad," said Karin._

"_I assumed it was," said Spike. "Care to clarify how bad?"_

"_Reality itself is flickering," said Karin. "Soon, the glue that holds the universes together will dissolve, and reality will shatter. This can only mean that one of the Bearers is dying. We've lost."_

_*_

Marty fell to his knees just shortly before arriving in the downtown area. He looked at his hand, which was slowly fading from view and world.

"Oh crap," said Marty. "My parents. I hope…"

Marty wasn't alone. As his Battery began to fade, so to did the universe it was supporting. Everything--the trees, buildings, and sky began to fade into a semi-transparent, flickering state. The air seemed to weaken, making everyone dizzy.

Willow gritted her teeth, then put everything she could into her spell. The strain faded her body more, but the sky practically exploded in thunder and lightning. Indeed, the storm was the only thing that wasn't semi-translucent; it seemed like Angel could have seen it from his dimension.

The T-1000, although becoming clearly ghost-like, still wasn't stopping. He continued to lumber forward, and he pointed his shotgun at Marty, ignoring the group surrounding them and the large, steel implement being held by one of them.

Illyria then ran up behind the Terminator and kicked him hard in the back. The robot tripped forward, and Buffy promptly rammed a steel pole, which was attached to a long wire, through the creature's stomach.

The T-1000 looked at the pole, then along the wire up to the lightning rod at the top of the clock tower.

There was a flash of lightning. The bolt struck the rod, then the electric charge travelled down the wire and into the T-1000. There were several quick sparks, then the creature's mechanical body exploded. Parts of his body flew in all directions, but none of them liquefied.

The world continued to darken. Suddenly, a loud crack could be heard. The clock tower broke in half, and a chunk in the centre seemed to evaporate.

The world was ending.

*

"You have to marry George!" said Jessie.

"But I don't love George," said Lorraine. "I could never love anyone the way I love James."

There was a loud bang, and the theatre's roof erupted into a smoke cloud. Lorraine didn't notice.

"Dis isn't what Jimmy wanted!" said Meowth.

"What did he want?" said Lorraine.

"He wanted you to marry George!" said Jessie.

"He… did?" said Lorraine.

The universe stopped shaking. Meowth's head charm, currently in the process of dissolving, solidified in a half-melted state on his forehead.

"Oh, yeah," said Jessie. "George was his… er, cousin, and he wanted his cousin to marry a girl that could take good care of him."

"Well… if it's what James wanted," said Lorraine. "I guess I should take him to the dance?"

"Yes, definitely," said Meowth.

"Okay," she said. "Sure. Say… why is there a talking cat here?"

"Ahhhhh!" screamed Meowth. "I'm not a talkin' cat!" Then a large drop of sweat rolled down his head. "Dis is gonna be hard ta explain."

*

"And she actually believed that?" said Giles.

"Well, sayin dat I'm a robot makes as much sense as da truth, don't it?" said Meowth.

"But couldn't you have found a better way to get my folks together?" said Marty. "As if my life wasn't bad enough _without_ a loveless marriage and a mom that's hung up on her high school boyfriend. You know, I'm almost glad I'm going to die before I can get back there." Marty's voice began to trail off sadly as he said that.

At this point, Doc Brown appeared, panting heavily. "What's going on here? What did I miss?"

"Enough," said Meowth. "New plan, doc. We wanna machine dat can take us from one dimension to another."

"That might be difficult," said Doc Brown. "I mean, where do I start?"

Jessie pulled out her Master Ball and tossed it to him. "Here. This should be a good start. We won't be able to bring Palkia with us, but you should be able to learn something about interdimensional travel by studying it. Now get to work on that machine! The Second Evil's about to get a big promotion."

"Sure!" said Doc Brown. "Imagine! Me, discovering the secrets of interdimensional travel! Just think of all the places I could visit! All the great worlds I could go to. I could meet Hamlet. Sherlock Holmes. Captain Ahab. Even Impey Barbicane."

"Yeah," said Jessie. "If any of those guys are still alive when you finish."

Buffy turned to Marty. "Ready?"

"Will I ever be?" he asked.

Buffy rested her hand on Marty's shoulder. "Don't worry. I've been where you're going. It's nice. Oh, wait! I have to get someone before we leave."

"Oh? Who?" said Willow.

"Buffy, you can't bring a native of this world back with you," said Giles.

"I know," said Buffy. "But I don't want to leave my mom here alone."


	19. IV iii

A Rivalry Rekindled! Vegeta Vs Kakarot! 

The universe stopped shaking.

"That was close," said Karin. "Too close. We'd better find the Bearer as soon as we can."

"How can we?" said Faith. "I mean, he or she could be anywhere. Even dead."

"Take my hand," said Karin.

"Why are all the ancient martial arts masters such perverts?"

"That's not it," said Karin. "I don't know who the Bearer is, but you can sense him or her because you're a Slayer. You can't sense ki as well as I can, but if we hold hands, synchronise our bodies, and concentrate very hard, we'll be able to combine our powers and find the Bearer."

"Oh," said Faith. "'Kay."

Faith took Karin by the fluffy hand, then closed her eyes. She tried to concentrate, but knowing how to use a new sense isn't easy. Soon, however, she could feel something very strong and big coming from the cat beside her. She realised that she must have been sensing his ki. Her own body gave off considerably less energy, though more than Spike.

Then, like a dark room growing lighter or a faint noise growing louder, Faith became aware of many, many more people around the world. The spikes in power she felt were staggering; there were hundreds of people on her level, and dozens even stronger. Many were much higher than even that. She knew that there were tough people in this world, but she never dreamt any creature anywhere would have--even need--that much power. Karin was probably many times stronger than anyone she had ever met in her own world, but if Faith herself was an ant compared to these powers, even Karin couldn't have been more than a mouse. It hadn't fully dawned on Faith until now just how little she--or anyone--could do here.

One of the powers caught her attention. She couldn't tell why, but there was someone that drew all of her attention to him. It wasn't just that he was one of the strongest. He gave her an overwhelming feeling of knowing and realisation.

"Okay, then," said Karin. "Vegeta is the Bearer."

*

"Damn," said Angelus. "I should have made that kid drop me off on land first. Oh well, he's probably dead by now. Good riddance."

"Oh, I don't know about that," said Jasmine, sitting on the ground next to him. "It would have been nice if he had won. I think the boy could use some self esteem."

Angelus turned to her suddenly. "Oh, it's you. For a while I thought that someone dangerous was here."

"No, don't worry about her," responded the First Evil, still in Jasmine's form. "I wouldn't bring her back, anyway. I didn't really like her trying to pull off her utopia during my apocalypse. You can imagine how hard things would have been if my Bringers were running off to worship her."

"Can't say I blame you," said Angelus. "And, for future reference, if you're here to screw with my mind, forget it. I hold the patent on that."

"I'm not here to hurt you," said the First Evil. "I'm here to help you. How would you like to survive the apocalypse?"

"Very much. What do I gotta do?"

"Nothing you wouldn't do on your own. Just mess with Buffy. Make sure she doesn't cause me any more trouble."

"Hey, already working on it. Why'd ya think I brought her mom back? Just get me to whatever world they're going to next, and I'll handle the rest."

*

At that moment, Vegeta was inside his Gravity Chamber, training under the most ridiculously high force the machine could muster.

But it didn't feel like enough.

"Curse it," he said. "Why is it that everything I work so hard for seems to come so easily to Kakarot?"

"It's because he fought for other people," said Demon King Piccolo. "It gave him more drive, and that let him push himself harder than anyone else was willing to."

"But what about me?" said Vegeta. "I have a family too, now. And yet Kakarot still surpasses me!"

By this point, Demon King Piccolo had taken on the form of his offspring, the younger Piccolo who Vegeta knew. "That's because Goku's nobler than you'll ever be. You've got a childhood of propaganda and a past of sin behind you. You may have learned to love, but hatred and selfishness are a part of who you are, and they always will be."

Piccolo left Vegeta's line of sight, then King Vegeta took his place.

"You were my son. The prince of all Sayians. You should have been stronger than a mere peasant like him. And yet even your genetics didn't grant you the strength to defeat him."

"And you know why that is?" said Freiza. "It's because that other monkey did it better. You care about your family because they're _yours_, but he cared about others because they were there. He had purer motivations, and he fought harder than you ever could."

"That's a bunch of nonsense," said Vegeta. "What ridiculous sentimentalism."

"Sentimentalism, maybe," said Babadi. "And yet isn't it true that Goku and Gohan both surpassed you? Even Piccolo did for a while."

"And what about the humans?" said Doctor Gero. "If you had to fight them now, without being able to transform, even they'd put up a decent fight."

"Fortunately, you do have one advantage over Kakarot now," said Raditz.

"You're like Andrew from _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_," said Recoome. "You used to be a real super villain, but now you fight with Buffy and the Scoobies."

"But not Kakarot," said Zarbon. "He fights for himself now. You have more and purer motivation than he."

"And a lot of good that's going to do me in this state," said Vegeta. "I still can't go Super Saiyan 3."

"No, not yet," said Nappa. "But I can help."

Vegeta looked at the apparition, then laughed. "So you can do more than imitate dead people, eh? Impressive. But may I ask why you want to help me? It's my understanding that you want Kakarot to destroy this world."

"I do," responded the apparition, still in Nappa's form. "But I need to destroy Kakarot, too. All of him. He's a vampire now, but my plan will only work if his body is destroyed."

Vegeta scowled. It was pretty obvious that this creature was either lying or stupid. Then it dawned on him. The spectre was trying to get Vegeta to kill the vampire so that it could kill Goku's soul in the Other World.

He smiled at his own brilliance. He's known Goku long enough to know that the vampire wouldn't win. The apparition's arrogance was going to dig its own grave.

"I accept your proposition," said Vegeta.

"I'm glad to hear that," said The First Evil. Then the spirit vanished. A cloaked Death-like figure appeared, floating over Vegeta. Evil energies flowed through the Prince's own aura. His own ki didn't grow, but the First Evil's seemed to rest on top of it, raising his level ever slightly.

But his own ki wasn't unchanged. It wasn't bigger, but suddenly felt as if it could be. Vegeta felt the same way after going Super Saiyan, and again after reaching the next level.

Vegeta charged all the energy he could, and his ki aura exploded as he ascended to Super Saiyan 3.

*

"Uh-oh!" shouted Karin.

"What uh-oh?" asked Spike.

"This is bad," said Karin. "The First Evil just helped Vegeta reach the third level of Super Saiyan."

"How's that bad? That means he's stronger, right? I thought we wanted Vegeta to beat Kakarot."

"What we want is for Vegeta to survive," said Karin. "If he could only go Super Saiyan 2, he would have kept training--possibly for years--before actually facing Kakarot, and, if I know Goku, Kakarot would have let him train so that he could have a better challenge when they did fight. By powering Vegeta up, the First Evil ensured that he'd fight Kakarot now."

"But he might win," said Faith. "They're on the same level now."

"Wrong," said Karin. "They may have reached the same level of Super Saiyan, but Goku's power level is still higher than Vegeta's. Kakarot is even stronger. Vegeta's chances of winning this fight are very slim."

"Okay, that's one life down," said Faith. "What about his spirit? Is he safe in… wherever?"

"I doubt it. Once Vegeta dies and passes on to the afterlife, the First Evil will probably get him to attack the real Goku. If Goku's been corrupted by the First's influence by then, he might kill Vegeta in self-defence. But even if he doesn't, if Vegeta kills Goku, then not only will we have lost one of the greatest souls the world has ever known, but we will have lost our best chance to defeat Kakarot."

*

Meanwhile, Vegeta and Kakarot, both giving off the full might of their Super Saiyan 3 power, met each other in a desert south of the west capital.

"It's about time we had a chance to settle this once and for all," said Vegeta. "No interruptions, no help, just the two of us, giving our all."

"Seems to me that you'll be giving quite a lot of someone else's all, too," said Kakarot. "Not that I mind. A fight is a fight."

Vegeta narrowed his eyes, then smirked. "You really think that, with my new powers, you can defeat me?"

"I know I can."

"Really? Well, then, why don't you show off something other than your mouth?"

Kakarot smiled, then disappeared. Caught off guard by his speed, Vegeta didn't have time to react before getting kicked sharply in the back and hammered straight into the ground.

He pulled himself to his feet, then looked straight up at his opponent. Vegeta thrust his arms out, palms forward, and released a large blast of yellow energy. Kakarot slapped the attack aside effortlessly, then cupped his own hands and began to charge his ki.

"Ka… me… ha… me… ha!"

A large wave of energy flew from Kakarot's hand. Vegeta flew to the side, narrowly avoiding the blast.

Then he noticed Kakarot, still hovering many feet in the air, still looking down. Vegeta pointed his hands at the enemy.

"Big Bang Attack!"

The large beam flew from his hands, and Kakarot didn't have time to dodge. He was enveloped by an explosion and smoke and dust. Vegeta watched the cloud carefully. Kakarot didn't come out from it.

But when the smoke cleared, he was still hovering there, looking almost disappointed.

"Gee, is that the best you've got?" said Kakarot. "I was hoping for a good fight, but it looks like not even the second-strongest man on Earth can give me a decent challenge."

"Oh, is that so?" said Vegeta. "Well, then, Mr. Strongest, why don't you stop playing around and just finish me off now?"

Kararot absentmindedly pointed his finger at Vegeta, then shot a small, quick beam out of his hand. It passed through Vegeta's chest, and the Sayian fell to the ground, bleeding heavily. Kakarot then landed and kicked Vegeta hard in the head, knocking him into a nearby mountain.

The mountain collapsed, knocking large amounts of dust into the air. Vegeta stepped out, injured and limping and barely alive, but not dead yet.

_This is serious_, he thought. _Kakarot isn't wasting any time or energy in this fight. But it's not because he thinks I'm a threat. No--it's the exact opposite. He sees me as so weak, he doesn't want to waste his time fighting me._

Enraged, Vegeta flew forward recklessly, expelling blasts of energy as quickly as he could.

Kakarot leapt to the side of the barrage, then flew forwards and rammed his elbow into Vegeta's face. Vegeta reeled, then Kakarot grabbed his hair and pulled him straight. Next thing Vegeta knew, the other Saiyan's face had shifted to a more demonic form, and he had bitten hard into Vegeta's neck. He could feel his blood and life force draining from him. As his world was enveloped by darkness, his only thoughts were about how unbefitting such a death was for a prince.

*

"I'm sorry," said King Yamma, "but I can't let you into HFIL. You aren't bad enough."

"Come on!" said Krillin. "Goku might need my help!"

"Ha!" laughed King Yamma. "What could you do?"

"I… well, I could die again," said Krillin. Then he sighed. He didn't know what was dumber; the fact he was trying to get _into_ HFIL, or the fact he was trying to get into HFIL knowing full well _he_ couldn't do anything to help.

"We are going to get into HFIL," said 18. "It seems to me the only question is whether we'll have to stay or not."

"What was that?" said Yamma. "Are you trying to push around _the_ King Yamma."

"No! We're not!" shouted Krillin. "It just seems to me that… well, I've done a lot for the world, so now that I'm dead, you should reward me, right? Well, for me, the best reward would be going down there to help. I mean, there is a precedence for that kind of thing, right?"

"Well… yeah, I did send a demon to the good place once because I thought he'd enjoy HFIL too much, so… I guess I really should let you in. Just wipe your feet on the way out, or I'm not letting you back! Ha! That was a joke!"

It wasn't funny, though, thought Krillin as he and his wife flew down through the trap door.

"Oh, and Marron?" Krillin turned to his daughter. "You'd better stay. We wouldn't want Kakarot distracting Goku by going after you." Coming from him, that was bull and he knew it, but now his daughter was heading into the better part of the other world, so it didn't matter.

Then Krillin and 18 continued their decent into HFIL and its unthreatening pink landscape. Everything seemed peaceful, so Kakarot couldn't have arrived yet.

But Goku was there, talking with two other men.

*

"Your chance has come," said Ambrosio. "Is not that the lady of your affections?"

Goku turned around. "Hey, yeah! Hey! Krillin! 18! How have things been?"

"Well, not great," said Krillin. "We wouldn't be here otherwise. Who are your friends?"

"Actually, I'm not entirely sure who either of them are," said Goku. "One's a monk and the other's an angel, but they're always fighting for some reason."

"One's a… weren't you paying attention?" said Angel.

"Well, I understood the parts about getting what I want from 18," said Goku, "but, to be honest, I found your conversation kinda boring."

"Wait… what was that about my wife?" said Krillin.

"I'm sorry, Krillin, but this is something I have to do. I'll regret it for the rest of my life if I don't."

Goku stepped to the side and walked towards 18, looking determined.

Angel felt like his stomach twisted into a knot. If he'd been more familiar with this show, he might know what to expect from this scenario, but for all he knew, Goku was an amoral psychopath.

Goku stopped a few feet before 18, and his aura seemed to grow. He looked like he was going to turn violent.

"18?" said Goku. "I've always wanted to fight you and your brother, but I've never had the chance. Well, I'd like to fight you now."

"What's wrong with you!?" said 18. "We're no match for you now! Our power levels haven't even increased since we were first turned into Androids!"

"I know that," said Goku, "but what if I didn't transform into a Super Saiyan?"

"Forget it," said 18. "We have more important things to worry about right now."

"Oh, I guess you're worried about that vampire. Well, what about after we take care of that?"

"Absolutely not."

"Okay, then. Just thought I'd ask." Then his aura disappeared as he powered down.

Angel blinked and watched as Goku walked away and sat on the grass. Did Goku actually think that was what the devil wanted?

"That's it?" said Ambrosio. "Does your desire extend no further than that?"

"But she said no," said Goku. "If I tried to force her to fight now, I'd be no better than Freiza."

"If you don't, you're no better than any other man!" said Ambrosio. "What good is might if one cannot derive right from it? If I had…"

"You know," said 18, "you're starting to annoy me."

"Silence, wrench!" said Ambrosio. "A woman's tongue should know when to be still."

18 glared, then walked right up to Ambrosio. The monk, busy discussing the virtues of power and bullying, took no notice of her until she was holding him up by the throat. Almost casually, she tossed him over her shoulder, and he crashed like a missile into a young, blonde man.

"Ow," said the man. Then, upon seeing Ambrosio: "Hey, there! You know, I haven't seen a man as good-looking as you since before I joined the Red Ribbon Army."

"You know, of course, that sodomy is a sin," said Ambrosio.

"You think I'm still worried about going to HFIL?" said the blonde man sinisterly.

Angel turned away. He never thought man-on-man rape was all that funny and, honestly, he was afraid that enjoying the monk's ordeal too much would set an unfortunate precedent.

"Oh!" shouted Krillin. "I just remembered! The vampire! You've got to do something, Goku! There's another you running around…"

Suddenly, another Goku, this one with a protruding forehead and long, golden hair, appeared.

Krillin gulped loudly. "Here."

*

"It's happening!" said Karin. "Kakarot has just arrived in HFIL!"

"Already?" asked Faith. "How'd he die?"

"He's not dead," said Karin. "He used the Instant Transmission. It's a technique Goku uses to move from one part of the universe to another instantly. And Kakarot just used it to travel to HFIL."

"But that's where Goku is, right?"

"Yes, but that's not my concern. Goku's presence in HFIL is a good thing. But you forgot to consider Vegeta. He's had a lifetime of evil deeds under his belt when he died, so he went to HFIL, too."

Faith looked over the horizon, wondering if she'd ever see it again, when a fat pink think that she recognised as Mr. Satan's disciple floated into the room. The horrible blob grabbed its own navel and opened it up, allowing Mr. Satan himself to step out onto the floor, gasping for breath.

"Never fear, your champion is here!" he shouted.

"Uh, yeah," said Spike. "Glad to hear it."

Mr. Satan just laughed. "Do you doubt my strength? Remember, I'm known as the greatest fighter in the world!"

"Only because you're the greatest con man," said Faith.

"Oh yeah?" said Mr. Satan. "Well, maybe a con man is what you need right about now. Can you get me to the other world?"

"If you want to go, I'll ask Baba to send you," said Karin. "But why do you want to?"

"I just told you," said Mr. Satan. "I'm Earth's champion."

*

"It's… me?" said Goku.

"No," said Kakarot. "I am as far beyond you as a vampire is beyond a human. I am your superior in every way."

"Really?" said Goku. "That's funny, 'cause I've heard that before, and it hasn't been true yet."

"Well, there's a first time for everything," said Kakarot. The vampire then tightened his muscles and began to charge his ki. Goku transformed to match his opponent's form. The two identical warriors stood and stared as their energy flared. They were like two animals flashing their fangs to scare off the other.

Or performing a mating dance, where each one excited the other.

"I've always loved fighting opponents who could truly challenge me," said Goku. "This is going to be a great fight!"

"Hold it right there, Kakarots!" shouted Vegeta. "Neither of you can kill the other until I have done so."

"Angel," said King Kai's voice from inside Angel's head. "It's me. King Kai. Can you hear me?"

"Yeah, I hear you," said Angel.

"Good. Now listen. Whatever you do, don't let Vegeta fight Kakarot."

"Why? Oh crap. Vegeta's the Bearer?"

"Apparently so."

"But what do you want me to do? I can't exactly restrain him! And it doesn't sound like he's going to back down."

"Help me talk some sense into Goku!"

"I think my restraining idea would be easier." Angel turned to Goku. "Hey! Goku!"

"Yeah?"

"Get Vegeta to safety!"

"I don't know," said Goku, "When I think about it, what's the fun in fighting myself? I think I'll let Vegeta handle this one."

"No!" shouted Angel. "You can't! Vegeta could get killed!"

Goku looked up, as if listening to an invisible voice, then Angel realised that he probably was. "Don't worry. Vegeta won't lose."

"You can't take that chance!" said Angel. "Look. I know this is hard to believe, but if Vegeta dies, everything will be erased!"

Goku stared at Angel for several seconds, then smiled. "I have faith in Vegeta."

"Sure," said Kakarot. "If you insist, I'll defeat this ant first."

"Didn't you hear me?" said Angel. "If he dies, everyone dies! You. Goku. Everyone!"

"I know," said Kakarot. "But I won't kill him immediately. I'll beat him up until he's dying, but I'll make sure it's slow so that I can fight Goku, too."

"Is everyone here a goddamn moron!?" said Angel.

Kakarot approached Vegeta, cracking his knuckles. "If there are no strong opponents left for me in the universe, there's no point in there being a universe."

Angel turned from one Goku to the other. "Goku! If you have a shred of heroism in you, _please_ stop this fight!"

Goku didn't answer right away. He just stood there, smiling, before he finally said, "Sorry, but I want to see how this turns out."

Then Angel struck Goku. It didn't hurt—that is to say, it didn't hurt Goku; Angel broke his hand—but Goku was surprised.

"You know what?" said Angel. "Next to you, even Xander is starting to look pretty damn courageous right about now. Everyone else may think you're a hero, but you're not. A hero stands up for the little guy, and does what's right for the world, even when it's not right for him. _You're_ a selfish dick, gleefully risking everyone else for your own amusement. Because, like Ambrosio said, you can. And the worst part is, you don't even know you're a monster. You're so absorbed in your own little world, worrying about what _you_ want, that you never even considered that there might be other people out there whose lives are more important than your stupid games. The biggest difference between you and Ambrosio or Freiza or even Kakarot is that you're too damn lucky to get called on it."

How much of that Goku heard, Angel couldn't say. Throughout the lecture, he just kept staring into Angel's eyes with a hurt expression on his face. Then, when it was finished, he lowered his head sadly for a few seconds before turning back to watch Vegeta and Kakarot. Angel hopes that was more remorse and guilt than ego.

Meanwhile, Kakarot and Vegeta stared at each other for about ten minutes, then, with the speed of a pair of bullets, met halfway between. There was a crash, and Vegeta flew backwards. Kakarot followed and hit him again, knocking him farther back. Vegeta landed, then put more distance between the two of them and fired several blasts of energy.

It basically kept going on like this, blasts and punches and all the while they were nearing the horizon. It didn't seem as exciting as you'd think, but that may just have been because Kakarot had the clear advantage for the entire fight. Vegeta could land the occasional hit, but it was like a child punching an adult.

"Goku, this isn't going to end well," said Angel. "You can't just sit there and watch any longer."

"You're right," said Goku. "I'd better get in there and fight. Not that it matters, of course. I'm going to get the tar hammered out of me, too."

"That's quitter talk. Come on! What happened to that enthusiasm you had before?"

"I'm still looking forward to the challenge, but that other me is just too strong. Normally, that wouldn't bother me, but here, when I'm fighting someone with all my knowledge and skills, I have no chance. I thought Vegeta might have fared better, since he wouldn't be as easy to read, but it looks like I was wrong." The sick thing was that he didn't sound scared. He didn't even sound that regretful. He was stating everything matter-of-factly.

Goku placed his hand on Angel's shoulder, and both were instantly moved nearer the fight. At this point, it was impossible to see what was going on. The two combatants seemed to phase in and out of sight, only appearing periodically to throw a punch at someone who would usually disappear before being hit. Goku transformed and joined the battle, though the only differences this made was that there were now three people appearing and disappearing all over the place, and Vegeta was now loudly protesting "the other Kakarot's" appearance.

Angel sat down near a pond and looked around, desperately hoping for a champion, but all he could find was the Champion.

*

"Your reign of evil ends here!" announced Mr. Satan.

Kakarot turned to him.

"Ignore him!" said Vegeta. "Your fight is with me!"

"Gee, I don't know," said Kakarot. "I've always wanted to take a piece out of the Champion of Earth."

Mr. Satan began to shake, but put up his fists. "C-come on!"

Kakarot stepped towards Mr. Satan, but Vegeta grabbed his shoulder.

"Where do you think you're--"

Vegeta was stopped by a sudden elbow to the gut. He fell over, gasping for breath, as Kakarot continued towards Mr. Satan.

The Champion of Earth stood still for as long as he could, but his fear finally overtook his stupidity and he dove ungracefully into the nearest pond.

Mr. Satan swam downward, trying to put as much water between himself and the vampire as he could. He didn't even have time to tire before he felt a strong hand around his neck.

"Where are you going?" said Kakarot.

This, Mr. Satan realised, was his chance to earn the heroism he'd always enjoyed. "Father, you give us grace through sacramental signs…"

"What are you going on about?"

*

They heard Kakarot screaming from under the water.

"Turning your back on me was a fatal mistake!" shouted Vegeta. Then he pointed his hands straight down at the pond and fired. There was an explosion, and waves were splashed to all sides. When the downpour turned to a puddle, Mr. Satan was lying face-down on the land.

But Kakarot was gone.

"I've finally defeated Kakarot!" shouted Vegeta.

"Hey! Wait a minute!" shouted Mr. Satan. "You didn't do a thing! _I_ was the one that defeated him!"

"Sure," said Angel. "Must have been an exciting minute down there."

"But it's true," said Mr. Satan. "I was the one that lured him into the water, I was the one that blessed the ocean so that it would become holy water…"

"Nice try," said Angel. "I saw _Jesus Christ Vampire Hunter,_ too. That would never work in real life. Especially since you're not a priest."

"But I am! I appointed myself the minister at the First Church of Hercule Satan so the kids would go!"

"Give it up," said 18. "You've tricked enough people into thinking you're a hero. Why are you so obsessed with convincing the rest of us?"

"But… but…" Mr. Satan hung his head. "Never mind."

"That was pretty good, Vegeta," said Goku. "I'm proud of you."

"You're what!?" said Vegeta. "How can you say that? You're supposed to be _jealous_."

"Of course I'm not jealous," said Goku. "You did good, Vegeta, and one day we'll have a great fight. But right now, I still think you're too weak."

"What!?"

"Don't get me wrong; your victory was amazing. Still, I sensed your ki, and it wasn't as high as mine. You're a real warrior, Vegeta, and when I fight you, I want to be able to go all out. If Kakarot died, he must not have been doing that. You deserve better than that, Vegeta."

"Stop making up such nonsense, Kakarot," said Vegeta. "That undead menace was not holding back. I have surpassed you in power, whether you want to admit it or not."

"Don't waste your time," said Angel. "He doesn't care if you're stronger than him or not. If you really want to get him, then prove you're a bigger hero."

"And how, pray tell, would you suggest I do that?"

"Have you ever considered martyrdom?"


	20. Silverlock Castle 4

At Silverlock Castle, Part 4

Buffy was already sitting on the couch, talking with Joyce and Xander, when Angel's party brought Vegeta and Macbeth to Silverlock Castle.

The newcomers stood awkwardly for a few seconds, remembering the circumstances of their last meeting. They decided not to bring it up.

"Why's she here?" said Angel conversationally, pointing to Joyce, as if that were the only appropriate way to ask about the return of the dead.

"Oh, my name's Joyce," said Joyce, shaking Angel's hand. "Buffy's mom. We've met before."

"Right," said Angel. "But why's she…"

"Uh-oh," said Spike.

"Uh-oh?" said Angel. "What uh-oh? Are you keeping uh-oh related secrets from me?"

"Well, it didn't make sense at the time," said Spike, "so I forgot about it. But Angelus is to blame."

"Angelus wished Joyce back?" said Angel.

"_Angelus_ was back?" said Xander at the same moment.

"Is back," said Faith. "It's a long story, but Angel and Angelus have separate bodies now."

"Where is Angelus?" said Buffy.

"Don't know," said Faith. "He escaped."

"Well, I wouldn't worry about that," said Spike. "The blokes in that world are pretty tough. I think that they could handle him."

"We can't be too sure when Angelus is involved," said Xander. "He could escape from that world. And when he does, he's coming after Joyce."

"Why me?" asked Joyce. The second Spike mentioned Angelus, she felt a cold dread come over her. It was strong enough that she felt she would never be happy again. But, somehow, she wasn't surprised. Realizing she had died once gave her a new appreciation of her existence, and all the flowers of life seemed all the sweeter for it. Yet she could never quite take her newfound life for granted, and, somehow, she felt that she wouldn't be enjoying those flowers for much longer.

Buffy put her arm gently around her mom's shoulder. "Xander, you don't know…"

"Why else would he bring her back?" said Xander. "I don't think the Ghost of Christmas Future told him to straighten up. If _Angelus_ brought your mom back, Buff, she's in danger."

Buffy sat silently, looking at Xander, then to Angel. "You're right."

So Buffy leapt at Angel and pinned him to the wall.

"Get Illyria," said Buffy.

Xander left to find her.

"What the hell are you doing?" said Angel. "I'm not Angelus!"

"You could be. That seems like the sort of thing Angelus would set up."

"Right. But he didn't."

"If you were in my situation, would you take the chance?"

Angel stopped struggling. "No."

Buffy pushed Angel towards Illyria, who promptly grabbed him tightly. "Angel's a security risk. Take him to a cell."

Mr. Peabody stepped into the room just as Angel was being escorted out. "Oh, my. I was hoping you'd have learned a lesson about getting along by now."

"We did," said Xander. "We learned that just because someone is a horrible person doesn't mean we shouldn't try to get along with them when the world depends on it. But Angel might have reverted to a Big Bad again, so he's not coming on our next road trip."

"Hmmm. That's hardly the lesson I was hoping for, but if it'll get you working together again, it'll have to do. We'll give you the night to rest up, then you'll set out again tomorrow. Now, Faith, as you will no longer be needed…"

"I'm not leaving, P," said Faith. "You didn't bring me all the way out here to act as a radar for MacGuffins. If I don't get to kick at least one butt before the adventure's over, I'll consider this trip a waste. And I don't like waste."

"Well, the more, the merrier," said Spike.

"And, right about now," said Buffy, looking at her mom, "I think we'll need all the merry we can get."


	21. Gaiden 2

A _Beyond Spaceland_ Side Story, Part II

Gohan's Disappearance! The Mysterious Silverlock Castle

Gohan glanced at his watch.

"Darn it," he growled. "If I'm late again, the Dean will kill me!"f

Nimbus stopped, then Gohan hovered off petted it.

"Sorry, boy," said Gohan, "but I need to hurry if I'm going to get to work on time, and I can fly faster without you."

Gohan turned and flew through the sky at the highest speeds, and somehow managed to crash headfirst into a wall.

"Ow," he growled, rubbing his head. "Where did this come from?"

"That wall was always there, my dear boy," said Mr. Peabody. "The question you should be asking is how _you_ got _here_."

"This wall must be really strong," said Gohan. "It should have been turned to rubble when I hit it."

"Yes, it should have," said Mr. Peabody. "But we have other things to discuss at this moment. Don't you want to know how you got here?"

"That'd be nice," said Gohan. Then he rubbed his head. "Aspirin would also be good."

"The answer, quite simply, is that we used magic," responded Dumbledore. "And it was not an easy task, even then. I tried several times to sneak into your house, but had only ever succeeded in waking you and giving my legs a good workout during my prompt exit. If I hadn't been able to turn your shirt into a Portkey while it was at the cleaners, we might never have been able to get you here."

"I have no idea what any of that means," said Gohan. "But it sounds serious."

"It is," said Nibbler. "We are in an epic struggle that spans universes and eras. Everyone that ever did, will, does, or might live is at stake. And your participation is of the utmost importance."

"But why me?" said Gohan.

"Because we needed someone strong enough to defend themselves and others," said Nibbler, "yet insignificant enough that their absence wouldn't endanger their own universe."

"Insignificant?" complained Gohan, but Nibbler cut him off.

"Yes, insignificant. Have you done anything since defeating Cell? No! Your father can protect your world while you're gone. In the mean time, you'll have a much more important task at hand. Albus, please lead young Gohan to his much more important task."

Dumbledore nodded politely, then led Gohan through a nearby door and adjoining hallway.

"As I do not love comedic anticlimaxes as much as my associates, I shall be prompt in informing you that your duty, although every bit as important as they say, will seem insignificant when I first describe it. We are employing you not as a warrior in the traditional sense, but as a bodyguard."

"Bodyguard? For who?"

"I assume you are familiar with the Cowardly Lion?"

"Huh? From _Wicked_?"

Dumbledore stopped in his tracks. "Are you joking?"

"Oh, sorry. I meant to say, 'Pardon me, but are you referring to the Cowardly Lion from _Wicked?'_"

Dumbledore sighed. "The Lion in mention actually originated in _The Wonderful Wizard of Oz_ by L. Frank Baum. But don't you consider it strange that he, a character from a book, is real?"

Gohan grinned. "If I, a character from an animé, am real, why shouldn't he be?"

"Glad we're being reasonable. Now, this should be a simple enough task. Our intelligence does not indicate that the First Evil has been able to recruit anyone on your level of power. Still, I would advise you keep in mind that the tasks that should be simple are often the most complicated."

"Do you mind if I ask you something?"

"If I did, you would already be on the wrong track. Fortunately, as a teacher, I love nothing more than a young man's or woman's quest for knowledge. What's your question?"

"If this First Evil guy's so weak, why don't I just go beat him myself?"

"There are two reasons for that. The first is that the First Evil is intangible, and so we wanted to send a group with more experience using their brains and outsmarting opponents they can't defeat physically. Not to say you're stupid, mind you, but your main strength does lie in your strength, if you'll forgive the repetition."

"Fair enough. And the second reason?"

"Confidential, I'm afraid. But, like the epilogue of _Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows_, it's not important." Dumbledore pressed his wand to a door, then mumbled something vaguely Latin. There was a click, like a lock unlocking.

"They're prisoners!?" said Gohan.

"Not at all," said Dumbledore. "This one requested that I lock the door magically. I fear my spells would prove useless if a real invader were to arrive, but every little precaution might help, even if only through peace of mind."

Dumbledore opened the door, and Gohan stepped into the brightly-coloured room.

"Hello," said the Lion. "I suppose you're the one they hired to guard me?"

"Yeah," said Gohan. "Say, do you know what's going on here?"

"Dumbledore asked me not to tell you what was happening," said the Cowardly Lion. "And I agreed with him, because you might want to do something heroic, though I and they know it would be a disaster if you did."

"Why shouldn't I do something heroic?" said Gohan, who was now suspicious of the three kidnappers.

"I cannot answer that any more than I can answer your first question," was his response. "But trust me: your ass would be grass."

"Pardon me?"

"I'm sorry for that outburst, but for the last few weeks, I've found myself using such obscene language more and more. Which is particularly bizarre because, despite what _Wicked_ would have you believe, Oz is a land without such obscenities. The language of profanity is not among our tongues. Yet this castle has been affecting everyone in very queer ways lately."

"Wow, I hope I don't say anything weird. By the way, what's _Wicked?_"

"I don't even know! This place is even weirder than Oz, and is aggravating my fears every minute I'm here."

_This is weird_, thought Gohan to himself. _What could be going on that they need to hide from me so badly? Still… whatever it is, letting this guy die before then probably won't help. So I guess I have no choice but to go along with their instructions for now. Unless…_

*

Five hours later, Gohan could no longer remember why he felt that an impromptu limbo tournament would help the situation or his spine. Now, one of those things was sore, and the other was just as far away as before. He decided he'd instead look around the castle, looking for clues, acting like he were in a hopefully less lethal version of a Sierra adventure game.

"Are you okay alone here?" said Gohan. "Do you mind if I…"

"If you want to leave to stretch your legs, feel free," said the Cowardly Lion. "I was the largest lions in Oz, and my roars always scared away my enemies before they could attack, so I can keep myself safe, at least long enough for you to get back to me."

"Good," said Gohan. _Because I don't trust these guys any farther than I can throw them._

He left the room and sneaked down the hallway, hovering a few feet off the ground to make sure his footsteps wouldn't alert anyone to his presence.

"I shouldn't open any doors, lest the creeks draw attention to myself," he said.

So he punched through a wall and entered the adjoining hallway.

He closed his eyes and concentrated. He was able to sense a lot of people in the area. At least four.

He could sense the three brains of the operation in one room. That meant they were talking, probably, so Gohan headed straight to the hall outside what, eventually, turned out to be the library.

"I wish you wouldn't take that superior attitude," said Mr. Peabody's voice, which was presumably coming from either Mr. Peabody or a skilled voice actor. Probably the former. "We have explained this to you before."

"And I have not forgotten your explanation," said Dumbledore calmly. "Yet I continue to disagree with it."

"That is because you are an idiot," said Nibbler, "Would you please try to remember that we only put you in the triumvirate because you were popular, and would make the best representative? I have been alive since before the universe was created, and know everything about its workings. And Mr. Peabody is still smarter than I am. You cannot come up with any suggestion that we have not came up with and disregarded within the first Planck time of our first meeting."

"Even ignoring the difference between knowledge, which you certainly possess in greater quantities than I, and intelligence, which you certainly do not, I prefer to argue with facts, and not qualifications," said Dumbledore. "If you do not come up with a better answer, however many Planck times it takes, I will not change my question."

"Just be warned, Albus, you are expendable. If you betray us…"

"I have no intention of stopping your plan before I have found an alternate solution. And, if one cannot be found, I will do everything in my power to help you. I am merely suggesting that, with your infinite wisdom, you should be trying to help me, instead of just critiquing my morals and intelligence."

"We have no intention of searching for a solution that doesn't exist. Now shut the fuck up and behave yourself."

"I have every intention of behaving. Unlike some, apparently."

"Hm, yes, If you'll excuse me, I need to check something. Do you mind if I bring the meeting to a close?"

"Not at all. I, too, need to leave to attend to some personal business. I promised myself to read at least one book a week while I'm here, and I was currently in the middle of the wizard writer Ian Bickquill's classic Epic, _The Quidditch Knights of Camelot_. And for some odd reason, I have an overwhelming urge to finish that as quickly as possible so that I can move onto Richard Longwand's erotica classic, _Two Horny Warlocks_."

"Yes, that is part of why I need to leave."

Dumbledore stared at Nibbler. "Nibbler, if you would like to borrow my copy of the book, you may, but unless you and I share sexual preferences…"

"That is not what I mean! Something weird is happening here. Weird with a capital 'W,' and italicised '_e_.'"

"Weird indeed,"conceded Mr. Peabody._ "_Almost as weird as Britney Spears. Oh dear. I don't even know who that is. Perhaps I had better join you in your research. Are you joining us, Al— Albus, please put your robe back on!"

Subconsciously, Gohan began to charge his ki. He was about to act, but suddenly noticed the Cowardly Lion's ki lowering as a second, higher ki entered the room. Gohan headed straight down the hall and through the walls. A man in a black suit and cape was just removing a glowing sword from the Cowardly Lion's shoulder. The figure spun the sword around in a circle as heavy breathing sounds came from somewhere within his life-preservation suit.

Gohan slapped the figure aside, then kneeled next to the Cowardly Lion.

"Are you okay?" he said. Paying only half-attention, he fired an energy blast that disintegrated the assailant.

"I think I'll survive," said the Cowardly Lion. "It won't be as easy as if I were in Oz, where I was immortal, but this is a more magical place than most, so hopefully I'll live."

"Don't worry," said Gohan. "I'll get a doctor…"

"No need."

At that, Mr. Peabody entered the room.

"I am quite qualified to fix his wounds," continued Mr. Peabody. "But he will need someone to take care of him until he heals. It won't be easy. Whoever we pick will have to stay by his side every minute of the day."

"Is there nothing you could do to speed up the process?" said the Cowardly Lion.

"There is plenty I _could _do, my dear boy. But I won't, because then Gohan wouldn't learn his lesson."

"Wait, what lesson? And who are you going to get to watch him?" said Gohan. "Answer the second one first."

*

For such a big cat, it took a long time for him to heal. ("I think it's because there is no need for healing in Oz, so my body is not used to it," the Lion suggested one night.) And, of course, Gohan was no longer given "permission" to leave the room, which would normally mean nothing because for Gohan a wall is just a door minus one punch, but Gohan felt so bad about getting the Lion hurt that he chose of his own accord to stay by the bedside whenever he was needed.

Which was always.

That he was staying because of guilt never mitigated his frustration, though. Gohan grew increasingly annoyed at the Lion's slow healing process. _Granted, the hole in his shoulder was pretty big, but he should have been walking by now_! thought Gohan.

Before the Lion could get better, the triumvirate brought a dog. But it was not a pet.

"Jesus Christ! Is that a lion?" shouted Brian the dog.

"Don't worry," said Gohan. "He's very friendly. But he's hurt. He needs someone to take care of him. And I can't stick around here any longer. Would you mind?"

"Of course I would!" said Brian. "I don't know how to take care of a freaking lion!"

"It's easy," said Gohan, heading to the door. "Just stay here and make sure he has everything he needs."

And with that, he left.

Brian turned to the Lion. "So… do you need anything?"

"I am growing rather hungry."

"Huh," said Brian. "Are you a vegetarian by chance?"

"That would be immoral," said the Lion. "My friend, the Scarecrow, was made of straw, which is very close to being a vegetable."

"Scarecrow?" said Brian. "Oh, thank god! You're _that_ lion. Sorry! I didn't recognise… I'm in your mouth, aren't I?"

*

"THAT WAS COMPLETELY OUT OF CHARACTER!" said Dumbledore.

The three of them might have been on to Gohan. They weren't in the library this time but, for reasons that Gohan couldn't comprehend, had chosen to meet in what was, apparently, a broom closet that somehow blocked Gohan's sixth sense; had it done a better job at keeping out the first five, Gohan might not have found it at all. However, it is difficult to ignore an old man yelling "THAT WAS COMPLETELY OUT OF CHARACTER!" at the top of his lungs, as we all know from personal experience.

Gohan pressed his ear against the door.

"I'm sorry," said Mr. Peabody. "But that mosquito might have been carrying the west nile virus, you know."

"And I appreciate your concern. But couldn't you have used the flyswatter? It was closer than the hammer!"

"It's not his fault," said Nibbler. "I have formulated a theory on what is going on here. As you already know, the universes are each filled with a type of invisible, undetectable molecule called 'authorium,' which sets the tone for each world and helps keep the writer's influence over the characters alive, even when the writer is not writing them. Some worlds contain comedic authorium, others dramatic. Yet whenever a traveller from one world enters another, the authorium from their body will be expelled through their breath and other emissions. It will then mix with the authorium from the rest of the world, becoming unstable. This creates a new, uncontrollable brand of authorium. Usually, this is relatively moderate, because the world's considerable volume of its own authorium will suppress and dilute most of the foreign stuff. Perhaps someone's personality would slip a few inches. Maybe they'd become a bit dumber. But that will be it. Unfortunately, because we built Castle Silverlock outside any know universe, it has no authorium of its own. Instead, the loose chemicals that are being brought in are reacting off each other in equal measure, and creating an authorium of pure, uncontrollable chaos. Gentlemen, our own personalities are going down the toilet. Plot holes are forming. Gohan being unable to break through that wall was the first sign, but we've seen more since. Soon, we could become two-dimensional parodies of ourselves. After that, we could become two-dimensional parodies of someone else. We might even become evil, and begin to remember sinister plans that we had not came up with before. And that's if we haven't already. For all I know, the five evil plans I already have in my desk were made by the authorium! Before long, we'll all begin acting like characters in bad animated sitcoms."

"Could it really be that bad?" asked Dumbledore.

"It will. This has happened before. The most famous result was called _Epic Movie._"

"Dear God, no!" shouted Dumbledore, at both the bleak prospect and the easy joke.

"And the fact that you just explained something that everyone in this room already knows definitely supports your theory," said Mr. Peabody.

"Not to mention _your_ rather forced non-sequitur," said Dumbledore.

"That is not the correct definition of 'non-sequitur!'" shouted Nibbler. "You just made a malapropism!"

"Malapropisms are phonetic errors. You, yourself, just made a malapropism. Wait, that isn't the word I'm looking for."

"I believe the word you are looking for is defenestration. Wait, no. That isn't even a noun!"

"AM I GOING MAD?" shouted Dumbledore. "IS SOMEONE MESSING WITH MY BRAIN? YOU!" Dumbledore grabbed Nibbler and slammed him against the wall. "DID YOU DO IT? DID YOU DO IT?"

Then there was a long silence as everyone waited to see if they'd break down again. Not even they thought the authorium would boot their brains so far down. After several minutes of successful silence, they decided they could probably continue talking without accidentally slipping out any cuss words; racially motivated slurs or generalisations; or in-depth descriptions of sexual acts, illegal in several progressive states and provinces.

"But we have other problems," finished Mr. Peabody. "If Albus is right in his assumption that Gohan is onto us, we'd have to find a way to take care of him."

"Not necessarily," said Albus. "All we need is for him to protect the six bearers until the seventh arrives. Gohan is a hero—he isn't going to let them die unless he does something deeply stupid, which would be more in character for his dad than himself. And he has no way to Deus Ex Machina himself out of this dimension without help from Square—again, that would be more in character for Goku."

_This is another dimension?_ thought Gohan. He realised with apprehension that they were right. If he were in his own world, he would have been able to sense his father's ki. The countless pamphlets with titles like _So You've Been Taken to an Alternate Dimension_, or _Why Does Thompson Have a Goatee Now? Why You Can Kill Them if They Have a Beard_ he had seen scattered about were also suspicious.

"But what about the authorium?" said Nibbler. "Won't somebody think of the authorium!?"

"I'll take care of that," said Mr. Peabody, so that the resolution will not come from no where.

"Good. But that's only one problem. I needn't remind you that Gohan could kill all of us a hundred times over in the time it would take someone considerably slower and weaker but still more than…oh, forget it," said Nibbler, then turned around and began to devour an ostrich, which he thought would be both more tasty and intellectually rewarding than finishing that sentence.

"I don't think any of you need to worry about that," said Mr. Peabody, then also turned and devoured an ostrich, because ostrich meat is actually quite healthy and tastes much like beef. Look it up. "If he were going to hurt us, he would have done so by now. Isn't that right, boy?"

Gohan withdrew from the door, as if pressing his ear against it had given away his location.

_Was he talking to me just now?_ Thought Gohan.

But he couldn't dwell on that thought for too long. At that moment, he sensed a cluster of life forms heading down the hall, more rapidly than any sane man would walk. Deciding that "Boy" was hopefully the name of Mr. Peabody's sock puppet, Gohan flew towards the room, where he quietly dispatched a hoard of velociraptors. Neither the Cowardly Lion nor Brian were hurt, and the former was distracted by repeated references to a "near culinary experience" that he assured Brian was "very unlike [him]," so Gohan was still free to search the castle as he wanted, but he had lost the will to do so. The time, he decided, had come for him to _think_, and not just act. But, no matter how hard you think, an answer that does not exist will not come. One that does exist, but you aren't smart enough to think of, won't be appearing in a hurry, either. Hence why the resolution of this chapter does not say, "Gohan threatened Square into taking him back home," and was not several paragraphs back.

In the headquarters, where there was no clocks or suns to track time, life no longer divided itself onto days and nights, so Gohan couldn't tell how long it was before a third person was brought in for him to bodyguard. (In fact, the television included a built-in guide that would have told him it had been two-and-a-half hours since he arrived, but Gohan didn't check because _Dragon Ball Z_ ended in 1996, and program guides did not exist or say the time in those days.)

"How many people are you going to make me protect, anyway?" said Gohan.

"Seven in total," said Dumbledore, "as we already said while you were eavesdropping." Gohan felt nervous—did they really know he was listening in on their conversation? "Keeping track of all of them will be difficult. I suggest you concentrate more on your job, and less on sneaking around listening in on our conversations. Not that I don't appreciate your inquisitiveness, mind you. But, for the time being, you do have more important things to worry about, and also I have several incriminating photographs of you and Piccolo that I suspect your wife, Videl, would be very interested in seeing."

"But I didn't know Trunks scribbled 'I hate Videl' on those shirts when we posed in them!"

"But will Videl believe you?" Gohan knew she would not.

With that, the elderly wizard turned on his heels and left the room, then turned his heels off again. The newcomer looked Gohan over sceptically.

"If thou't my guard, thy armour's sparse," said Macbeth.

"I can handle it," said Gohan.

"I know thee not, and words can lie. My eyes, I trust, but not thy mouth."

"Fine," said Gohan. "If you need me to prove it to you…"

He looked around to find the way to best do this. His eyes eventually landed on a bed, so he picked it up and threw it through the wall. Then he reached out through the hole and picked up a ten-pound barbell in one hand.

"Is this enough?" said Gohan.

"Indeed it is," said Macbeth, eyeing the barbell. "My eyes have learned Your mouth is true. Again, the world Has shown its breadth surpassed belief. I'd never dreamt such power dwelt Outside the realm of epic tales."

"I know what you mean," said Gohan, as he peeled the hole off the wall to tidy up. "My entire life, I've been fighting stronger and stronger opponents. It seems that whenever I think we've met the strongest guy there'll ever be, someone else comes along right after. It's like one of those Russian matryoshka dolls, where each one is bigger than the last."

"That's not how matryoshka dolls work!" said Brian.

"It is if you start from the inside!" screamed Gohan.

Then Gohan realised he had been overlooking something important.

_Come to think of it, I could probably find out a lot more if, instead of trying to eavesdrop on the trio as an outsider, I pretended to join them. You know. Start from the inside!_

"I'm going out again," said Gohan.

"Again?" said Brian, "Jesus Christ! Is that what they taught you during your bodyguard training?"

"Oh, I never went through training," said Gohan. "I only got this job because they kidnapped me." Then he slid out the door.

"Oh," said Brian. He stood awkwardly for a moment, then said, "We're gonna die, aren't we?"

"To live would be the greater threat," said Macbeth. "I've lived so long, and suffered much—"

"Just shut the hell up!" said Brian. "If I have to put up with your emo crap for any longer, I'm going to kill you where you stand."

Macbeth cupped his mouth accordingly.

*

Gohan walked into the triumvirate's office. Nibbler and Dumbledore looked up at him.

"I'd like to make a suggestion."

"No, we are not letting you officially join our group," responded Nibbler.

"But how did you know I was going—"

"Let's just say that you're not the only one who's been eavesdropping in this castle."

Gohan was now 30% sure they were onto him. "But why can't I join?"

"Well, for one thing, a triumvirate only consists of three people. We don't accept new members per say."

"What about Square?"

"He's basically just the chauffeur. But don't tell him. He thinks he's in on everything."

"So you just sit in your ivory tower, manipulating everyone?"

"Sitting back and manipulating people is not as easy as it sounds," said Dumbledore.

"Really?" said Gohan. "Well, then. Let's see."

He pointed his hand, open-palmed, at Dumbledore's face. "Let everyone go, now."

"We can't do that," said Dumbledore.

"Silly headmaster. You can—you just won't."

"Trust us. The repercussions would be disastrous."

"No offence, but you haven't really proven the most trustworthy geriatric recently. I'm leaving, and I'm taking the others with me. If anything else needs to be done, I'll speak to Karin or Dende or King Kai or someone about it. But not to you."

"And if we refuse?" asked Dumbledore.

Gohan then removed Dumbledore's head with a blast of concentrated ki.

"No!" shouted Dumbledore. "Gohan killed Dumbledore!"

"And I'll kill you, too, Dumbledore, if you don't do what I say!"

"No need for violence," said Mr. Peabody, as he entered the room. "I've thought it over, and realised that you were right. All the people we were going to sacrifice have been released."

"That's more like it. Now let me out of here."

"Of course. Simply enter the fifth door on the left, and step into the door on the side of the ominous machine. It'll take you to your own world, and all of the people you wanted to rescue will be there."

"Good. See how easy that was?" Then Gohan left the room.

"Mr. Vegeta has just been brought in by Angel, I assume?" said Dumbledore, turning to Mr. Peabody.

"Indeed."

"I still can't believe you got rid of that meddling kid so easily," said Nibbler.

"Of course I did," said the dog. "Gohan's a good kid, but a bit muddle-headed." He looked at his watch. "By this time, I suspect he has realised that we did not, in fact, release any of our sacrifices. And by now, he is just realising that the modified WABAC machine—which I christened the WADERE machine—cannot take him _back_ here to rescue everyone."

"I only hope Vegeta is less trouble," said Nibbler.

"Don't worry," said the dog. "I've told Vegeta myself that I doubt he can protect all five of his fellow Bearers. After swearing on his Saiyan pride that he can, he began to dedicate himself wholly to the duty. I think you'll find things will run much smoother than they did with Gohan. And while we're talking about stuff being smoothed over in ways they should not, I should mention that when I reprogrammed the WADERE machine, I made sure it had a special authorium vacuum. When Gohan stepped through the machine, all the excess authorium was sucked out of Silverlock Castle. Provided we turn the machine on every once and a while, everything around here should be back to normal starting right NOW."

This is the point in the narrative where most writers would try to describe the leaving authorium, maybe by saying the particles disappeared like an evaporating puddle, or rushed out like a cloud of smoke. Perhaps one might be inclined to mention a whoosh. But there were no such sensory hints to the lack of authorium. The only indication that things were back to normal is that those in the room no longer felt an overwhelming urge to fornicate with an electric pencil sharpener.

"And the day has not been without other blessings," said Dumbledore, "Gohan was ejected after Angel left the _Dragon Ball_ world, but before he could speak with Ms. Summers. As such, she and her team will have no reason to snoop around. We should be able to hide the real purpose of the Pool of Life until after the seventh Bearer has been brought to us. So everything is back to normal."

"So this truly has been an uneventful chapter," Nibbler said, "of our lives."

*

-

*

Darth Vader and _Star Wars_ are owned by Lucasfilm and Twentieth-Century Fox.


	22. VI i

"Does everybody know what time it is?"

"Tool Time!"

"That's right! And here's the host of our show, Tim 'The Tool Man' Taylor!"

Amidst loud applause, the host and his assistant walked out onto the Binford set. Once the audience calmed down, Tim continued the routine:

"Thank you, Heidi. And you all know my assistant, Al 'In Bed by Ten' Borland."

Al, a large bearded man in a flannel shirt, showed only minor annoyance at the shot and resulting laughter. He was used to this treatment by now.

"Today," continued Tim, "we're going to learn how to construct a theatre stage. Now, I know what you're thinking. Why would any man want to learn how to build a stage? And why is Tim Taylor showing people how to build a stage when the 'theatre'"—(this word spoken in a faux British accent)—"is so far outside his field of expertise?"

"That's never stopped you before, Tim," said Al.

"Very funny, Al," responded Tim. "You must crack everyone up on solitaire night." Then he turned to the audience. "But seriously, the reason I'm teaching you how to build a stage is, you'll never know when a new skill will come in handy. Look at me! When I became a salesman for Binford, I never thought I'd have to know how to assemble a cabinet."

"Unfortunately, he was right."

"Let's say you're a parent, and your son or daughter is in a school play. They're going to need a stage, and, as a parent, you decide to volunteer. Suddenly, your knowledge has paid off! That's the first reason."

"Okay, and what's the second reason?"

"To give the play MORE POWER," said Tim, then followed with a barrage of grunts. "Now, take the ghost scene in _Hamlet_."

"I must say, I'm surprised you're familiar with that scene, Tim."

"I'm not stupid, Al. I know that the ghost of Hamlet's dead friend drives him insane for passing him over for a promotion."

"Ah, of course." Al looked directly into the camera. "I shouldn't have been so surprised."

"Now, say Hamlet's in his room, playing loudly on his cello and complaining about how misunderstood he is, and the ghost shows up. If this were a movie, and you had special effects, this wouldn't be a problem. You could just edit him in. But when you're dealing with a stage, you can't do that. You have to use trap doors."

"You didn't invent trap doors, Tim."

"Or course I didn't _invent_ trap doors, Al. But I did give them…"

"MORE POWER!" shouted the audience.

Reluctantly, Al followed Tim and the camera to the back lot. There was a large wooden stage, made up to look like the interior of a gothic castle. Spider webs and bats hung from the ceiling, and a decaying tree was painted on the wall behind the window.

"Tim? What is this?"

"It's a stage, Al."

"I can see that, Tim, but weren't we supposed to build this in front of the audience?"

"We will. We have all the tools and supplies to build another stage. But first, I wanted to show them what the completed product will look like. You know. Build up the excitement."

"Right. And I suppose that you weren't just in a hurry to show off your new gadget."

"Al, you know me. When have I ever liked to show off?" Then he turned to his 'Tool Girl.' "Heidi? My costume."

Heidi gave Tim a white sheet with two holes in it; he promptly slipped it over his head, then got onto his knees and crawled under the stage.

"Now, watch this." Tim's voice was barely audible from underneath. "With one push of a button, I'll appear on the stage in a spectacular show of special effects."

Then a cloud of smoke rose in the centre of the stage. The sound of something mechanical, like an elevator, could be faintly heard. The smoke thinned, revealing Tim in his ghost costume. The audience broke into applause.

"Wow," said Al. "That actually worked. And nothing blew up."

"That's right, Al," said Tim. "Believe it or not, I can get through one show without destroying something. And just think, folks. Wouldn't you love to see something like that in your kid's school play?" Tim raised his remote again and pushed the button. Smoke began to rise again as he and the platform beneath him seemingly sunk through the floor. Just then, the sound of a short circuit popped through the air, and Tim suddenly stopped lowering. He frantically pushed the button on his remote, and sunk quickly beneath the cloud of smoke. "Just a minor problem!" he shouted. "I should be able to fix it if I just…"

Another pop was heard, and Tim emerged once again from the smoke, albeit this time faster and without any interference from gravity. His flight took him off the stage, and onto a pile of cardboard boxes conveniently placed nearby. There he rested, upside-down, with only his legs sticking out from the pile. It was likely that he wouldn't bother to bring the rest of himself out for a while.

"To answer your question, Tim," said Al, "no, I don't think I would like to see that in a school play."

*

"Those lucky merchants!" cries the soldier stout,  
When years of toil have well-nigh worn him out:  
What says the merchant, tossing o'er the brine?  
"Yon soldier's lot is happier, sure, than mine:  
One short, sharp shock, and presto! all is done:  
Death in an instant comes, or victory's won."

--Horace, _Qui fit, Maecenas_.

Al the World's a Stage

With the show finished and the bandages applied, Tim and Al were preparing to leave for the evening.

"That was a breathtaking performance," said someone behind them. "Truly splendid, says Count Bleck!"

Tim turned to the speaker. He was a short man wearing a white coat and top hat as well as a monocle. As if to appear normal, he chose to surround himself with people who appeared to be wearing bizarre costumes made of cardboard. "And who may you be, Count Bleck?"

"Why, Count Bleck is Count Bleck," Count Bleck responded. "I am a famous director of stage and screen. And these are the loyal members of my acting troupe."

"Really?" said Al. "I must admit, I'm not familiar with your work. What kinds of plays do you put on?"

"Have you ever heard of _The Sombre Sonnet_?"

"Well… no."

"What about _The Cumbersome Countess_?"

"No."

"_The Gregarious Geriatric_?"

"Sorry."

"What's next?" said Tim. "_The Hungry Hippo_?"

"Well, at least someone here is familiar with my history," Count Bleck said.

"Do you have any other projects planned?" asked Al.

"That is what brought Count Bleck here," Count Bleck said. "After watching you in today's show, I knew that I'd have to cast you as the star in my next production."

"Me?" said Al. "Wow. I mean, I never thought I'd get to star in a play directed by the famous Count Bleck!"

"You hadn't even heard of him before today!" said Tim. "And he calls himself "Count Bleck." If there actually _was_ anyone famous with a name like that, I'd have heard of him."

"Well, maybe he's only known in highbrow circles."

"With a name like _Count Bleck_!?" said Tim.

"Don't mind Tim," said Al to Count Bleck. "He's just jealous that you didn't ask him to star in your play."

"But I do have a part for him," Count Bleck said. "He'll be the villain."

"The villain in what?" said Tim. "You still haven't told us what this play is about."

"It is called _The Horrific Hamlet_ by Al Funcoot," Count Bleck said.

"How original."

"A Hamlet is another word for a small village," Count Bleck said. "You seem to be confusing this play for another, much inferior work."

"Wow!" said Al. "Is the play really _that_ good?"

"Of course it is," Count Bleck said. "Count Bleck wouldn't put on a bad play."

"Well, what's it about?"

"It is about a brilliant young confidence artist named Mike Fox, and his treacherous friend, named Mart McFly."

"And what's a confidence artist?" asked Tim.

"It means he's a con man," said Al.

"So the play's hero is a con man."

"He's obviously an antihero, Tim."

"And Mike Fox? Mart McFly? What's with all the _Back to the Future _references?"

"It is not a reference to _Back to the Future_," Count Bleck said. "Funcoot wrote the play in the 70s. _Back to the Future_ was referencing it."

"Are you kidding? You want me to believe that they only hired Michael J. Fox because he happened to be named after a character in that play?"

"Exactly. Truly brilliant directors take things like that into consideration."

"How would you know?"

Al quickly moved between the two men to hold them apart. "Now, Tim, there's no reason to be rude."

"I don't trust him," said Tim. "Either he's a loon or a confident artist."

"You mean confidence artist."

"Right, confidence artist."

"Now, he may be a bit eccentric," said Al, "but… well, what do you think he's trying to scam out of us, exactly?"

"Easy. He wants us in the show so more people will buy tickets. After all, if anyone can put butts in seats, it's the Tool Man."

"And how's that a scam?"

"…That's not the point, Al! I don't think getting involved with this guy's a good idea."

"Why? Because I might be good at this? Are you afraid I'll be better than you?"

Tim tried to think of an answer. When none came, he decided on the next best thing.

"Okay, fine. You want to appear in that stupid play, that's your business. But I'm not getting involved."

"Why not?" said Al. "I mean, I think you'd be a good actor."

Tim looked at Al. "You really think so?"

"Well, sure. I mean, you're a good host. Not a great tool guy, but…"

"Forget it!" Tim began to walk off.

"How would you like to build the set?" Count Bleck said.

Tim stopped. "Ohhhhhhhhhh?" he growled with interest, turning to face Count Bleck.

"You can design it however you want," Count Bleck said. "As long as you agree to play the villain."

"Really?" said Tim.

"Are you sure _this_ is a good idea?" said Al.

"Trust me," Count Bleck said. "Count Bleck doesn't have bad ideas."

*

"I still think it was a bad idea," said Xander. "You should have told Yamcha how tricky Angelus was. There's no telling where he is now."

"Fifty percent chance he's in that prison cell," said Buffy.

"Fifty percent chance we're screwed," said Xander.

"If we see someone that looks like Angel here," said Spike from inside his Hazmat suit, "we'll know it's safe to stake 'em."

"But what if the real Angel was dropped here?" said Faith. "That seems like the type of thing the First would do just to screw with us."

"Okay, then," said Buffy. "We see Angel, we knock him out and put him in another cell until we can figure out which one is which."

"In the mean time, does anyone know where we are?" asked Giles.

Xander look up at the large "Binford" sign on the top of the building. "_Home Improvement."_

"The Tim Allen sitcom?"

"'Fraid so."

"So everyone's gonna think we're crazy when we try to tell them about the hocus pocus," said Faith.

"Actually, this might work to our advantage," said Giles. "Once the Bearer sees something undeniably supernatural, he or she probably won't be quite as sceptical."

Buffy looked towards the parking lot. Tim and Al were leaving. Several humanoid monsters followed them out: a large bearded thing with ape-like posture; a jester-like guy with a half white, half black face; and a very stiff-looking blue woman with a square head. A young girl and a guy in a white suit and cloak accompanied them. All five soon vanished into thin air, once Tim and Al were no longer looking.

"Al's the Bearer," said Buffy. "We're off to a good start. Now we just need to…"

"Wait," said Giles. "Look at their faces. They don't look like they think anything is wrong. They probably thought those were masks. And I'm sure their backs were turned when the monsters teleported away."

Buffy stopped. "Good point. But we still need to keep an eye on him."

"I'll handle this," said Spike.

Then he made his way across the lot to shake hands with the pair. "Hello. Tim? Al? It's a pleasure to meet you both. I'm your biggest fan."

"Well, thanks," said Tim. "I'm always glad to meet a new tool enthusiast. Glad to see we're reaching the Hazmat suit enthusiasts demographic."

"Oh, that," said Spike. "Sorry, but I was filming a science fiction scene a while ago. 'Sides, the suit keeps the sun out."

"Say, could I ask you something?" said Tim.

"Tim, don't drag him into this," said Al.

"No, no, drag on," said Spike. "I'd do anything to help the Tool Man's assistant."

"Why, th--" Tim glared at Spike. "No, never mind. It would be rude to--"

"Oh, come on, Tim," said Al. "You were going to ask him which one of us he thinks has more charisma."

"Oh, well that's easy," said Spike. "It's--"

"No," said Tim. "That wasn't what I was going to ask. I wanted to know if… if he's looking for a job."

"Me?" said Spike. "Work with the Tool Man's assistant? Why, that sounds--"

"I'm sorry," said Al. "I don't know what's gotten into Tim, but we aren't hiring anyone on the show right now."

"I'm talking about the stage," said Tim. "I could use help building it."

"True," said Al. "And you could help the help by not getting involved." Then Al broke into laughter. Spike pretended to join him.

"You are so funny," said Spike. Then he turned to Tim. "But in all seriousness, I'm afraid that I'm no good at carpentry. But my friend is." Spike turned back to the group and began to wave. "Xander! Come here, old pal! I've found work for you!" He turned back to Tim and whispered, "He has trouble holding down a job, but he's a good worker."

"Then why can't he keep a job?" asked Al.

"Well, he has a bit of a drinking problem."

"He's an alcoholic!?" said Tim.

"No," said Spike. "Just drinks a lot of water. Pisses all over himself about once a week. He's got a tiny bladder, but he refuses to acknowledge it. Quite tragicomic, really."

Xander made it to Tim's location a quarter-minute later. "I just wanted to thank you for the opportunity to work with you, Mr. Taylor," said Xander. "I can hardly contain myself in all this excitement."

Tim looked away from Xander awkwardly and began to scratch his head. This was probably where the laugh track would go.

"Do you have any professional experience?" asked Tim.

"Sure," said Xander. "I used to be the foreman of a construction crew until… well, I'd still be there, but… there was a big accident, and…"

"Never mind," said Tim. "You can have the job. Just make sure you wear a diaper or something."

"Errr… okay…" said Xander. "By the way. I don't have a place to stay, since my apartment was flooded, so I was wondering…"

"Oh!" said Tim. "Well, I _would_ invite you, but I'd have to call my wife first. She might get mad if I just bring a stranger into my house."

"Well, I doubt she gets mad at someone as thoughtful as you very often," said Spike.

Tim paused a few more seconds for the unheard laugh track. "But you know who still isn't married? Al!"

"I _am_ engaged, Tim."

"But you're not married. You see, marriage is like a job. Before you get married, all you have to do is act nice and impress her, but you can still basically do whatever you want with your personal life. It's not until you get married that she becomes your boss and starts telling you what to do, what to wear, and who you can have over."

"Great advice, Tool Man's assistant's boss," said Spike.

"I want to go on record saying that, if you let me stay with you, Spike will not be visiting," said Xander.

"Spike?" said Al. "That's not your real name, is it?"

"Of course not," said Spike. "It was my nickname on the high school football team. That's where I met Xander here. He was on the cheerleading team."

"You too?" said Al. "Wow! I wonder if we have anything else in common."

"Well, if you let me stay at your place, we could find out," said Xander.

Al hesitated for only a second more. "Okay, sure! It'll be fun. We could play board games, and you could tell me about yourself, and…"

"And braid each other's hair, and talk about boys!" said Tim mock-enthusiastically. Then he rolled his eyes and walked to his car.

*

"It's a good thing Mr. Peabody and Co. have so much money," said Buffy. "There's no telling how long we'll need to rent these hotel rooms for. The guys are lucky that Xander got to bunk with Al. Our bed-to-person ratio is less ideal."

Then she sat on one bed, and looked at the other one. "So, who gets the floor?"

"Hey, I just got back from being dead," said Joyce. "I haven't slept in nearly enough beds lately."

Willow pointed to Buffy. "You're a Slayer. You're tougher than us, so you don't need a cushy bed."

"Hey! I'm the one that does the fighting! If anyone needs to be well-rested, it's me!"

"Okay, okay, I get it," said Joyce. "Heroes need your beds. I'll just sleep on the floor. And hope there aren't any rats."

Buffy smiled playfully. "That's the spirit."

"Do you think we should double-up?" said Willow. "I mean, you could share your bed with your mom."

"That sounds a little Xena and Gabrielle-ish, doesn't it?" said Buffy. Then she thought for a few seconds. "Got it! I'll take the bed, but give you the blanket and sheets, and Willow has her own bed and sheets to herself. Then tomorrow, I'll take Will's bed, she takes the floor, and you get this bed. Then we just alternate."

"Wow," said Joyce. "When'd you learn to share?"

"I resent that," said Buffy. "Not saying it isn't true, but I resent, nonetheless."

*

"Jill! I'm home!"

"Hi, honey. How was work?"

"Mind-numbingly stupid."

"What did you do this time?"

"Nothing! Well, okay, I got launched by a malfunctioning platform, dropped a hammer on my foot, nailed my sleeves to a wall, dropped a hammer on Al's foot, glued by head to another table, glued my pants to a chair, destroyed a garbage disposal, and burned a hole in the butt of my pants, but that isn't what's bugging me. It's that Count Bleck guy."

"And who, may I ask, is Count Bleck?"

"Apparently, 'Count Bleck is Count Bleck.' He's some director who wants Al to star in this play he's putting on, and he's casting me as the villain. But the thing is, he's insane."

"Wanted you in his play? He must be."

"I'm serious. I think this a hoax. No one's heard of him, but he claims to be famous. And his plays have names like the _Sauntering Sombrero _or the _Cucumber Countess_."

Jill looked amusedly at Tim, almost laughing, but stopped suddenly. Her face took on a mournful look.

"Jill? Is everything okay?"

"Yeah. I was just thinking about Wilson."

"Oh." Tim didn't like thinking about Wilson, so he decided to change the subject. "Did you smell what those witches were cooking last night?"

"They're not witches, Tim. Just three lonely old women who happen to be even worse at cooking than I am."

"I wouldn't go that far, honey. But it was bad. I could have sworn they were cooking dog."

"Some people do eat dogs. It's very popular in Korea"

"The dog was the _best_ past. It smelled like they got their meat from the zoo."

"You know, it's funny you should mention that. I just heard on the news that someone did break into the zoo."

"Into the zoo? Why?"

Jill hesitated before speaking. "If I tell you, you have to promise not to make a big deal out of it."

"I promise."

He didn't believe that, and he doubted Jill did. "And you can't make fun of our new neighbours."

"I don't want to be turned into a toad, dear."

"See? This is why I can't tell you."

"Come on!"

"Nope. Sorry, but you already broke the promise."

"No, technically, I only promised not to make a big deal out of it. I haven't promised not to make fun of them yet."

"Yes, you did. You promised me last night you'd stop making fun of them."

"Did I?"

"Yes, you did."

"Oh. Okay, okay, sorry. I promise I won't make fun of them after you tell me what they did at the zoo."

"I didn't say _they_ did anything. It's just funny. Someone stole several animals, including a poisonous toad, a snake, a newt, a frog, a bat, an adder, among others. Apparently, one of the people at the paper saw the list, and realised everything stolen was mentioned in _Macbeth._ They're the ingredients the witches throw into their cauldron. The police think some Shakespeare enthusiast did it as part of a prank."

Tim laughed. "I knew it. I knew that trying to understand that stuff could drive a guy bonkers. And I still think it was those witches next door, because they _talk_ like Shakespeare."

"So if they speak in iambic pentameter, they must be crooks?"

"Duh, yeah!"

"Tim, we don't know anything about them. For all we know, they're poets or actors. And as for Count Bleck, I think you're just jealous that Al's getting all this attention."

"Of course I'm jealous! But that doesn't mean I'm not right. The guy's a liar. He chose to do a play called _Hamlet Horror_, where the main character is a con man. And get this! The characters are named Marty McFly and Michael J. Fox, yet he claims the playwright _didn't_ steal the names from the movie."

"It could be a coincidence."

"Could be, but he says it isn't. He says the movie character and actor are both named after the guy in the play. _Hairy_ _Hamlet_ was supposed to be written _after_ Michael J. Fox was born, for crying out loud!"

"I'm sure he didn't say that."

"He did so!"

"Tim, why do you always have to be so competitive? Why can't you be happy for Al? And it's not like you're getting overlooked! In a lot of plays, the villain is the most challenging role."

"Hey! The fact that Al is more popular than me, even though it's _my_ show, has nothing to do with this. I just don't trust this guy. Oh, by the way, I'm building the set for this performance."

"What!? I thought you said you don't trust him!"

"I don't. That's why I took the job. Do you think that _I_ want the set to collapse on Al during the performance?"

Jill opened her mouth to speak, but Tim waved his hand.

"Yeah, yeah, I know." Then, in a higher voice: "'Well, you must if you're building the set yourself.' Is that what you were going to say?"

Jill stared at him. "That about covers it, yes."

*

"Really?" said Al as he stepped into his apartment. "Wow. It must have been weird to rebuild your own High School. How did it get destroyed?"

"The librarian blew it up," said Xander. "But that's a long story, and one that involves large snakes and a bug-eating mayor."

"Sounds like you've led an interesting life, Alex."

"Please, call me Xander."

"Right, sorry. You know, I've always thought that working with Tim made my life as interesting as they come, but, compared to you, I haven't seen anything. You're not making any of that up, are you?"

"No. In fact, if anything, I'm keeping stuff from you."

"Oh, now I know your teasing. You are good at making up stories, though. Have you ever considered becoming a writer?"

"Not really, no. And, although there is no way to segue into this next comment, do you mind if I use the little carpenter's room?"

"Oh, sure. It's right that way." Al pointed Xander towards the lavatory.

Xander's departure was followed by a knock at the front door. When Al answered, Count Bleck and his troupe stood on the other side.

"Oh! Count Bleck!" Al stood aside as the troupe entered his apartment. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to give you the script," he said. "The first rehearsal is tomorrow, so you had better have it memorised by then."

"Tomorrow? Gee, that's kind of soon."

"We are in a very big hurry. The play's opening is next Monday."

"Next Monday!? That's eight days from now! There's no way we'll be ready by then!"

"Don't worry. One week will be more than enough to make sure everything happens as I intend."

When Xander returned from the bathroom a minute later, Al could almost feel the room's temperature drop. Count Bleck looked at Xander with more hatred than Al had ever before seen coming from one man. Xander's jovial good-humour was gone; he looked like he would have loved nothing more than to smash Bleck's head in with a hammer.

"Oh! Xander," said Al. "Er… Xander, this is the director, Count Bleck. Count Bleck, this is Xander. He's going to be helping Tim build the stage."

"Bleck?" said Xander. "Funny. Last time we met, he called himself Count Olaf."

*

-

_*_

_Home Improvement _was created by Tim Allen and is owned by Touchstone Television and Wind Dancer Productions.

_Paper Mario _and all related characters are owned by Nintendo and Intelligent Systems.


	23. VI ii

Murder, He Wrote

"My name is not Count Olaf, it is Count Bleck," Count Olaf said.

"Why did you even need to make up a fake name?" said Xander. "No one from around here has heard of you. And you certainly weren't going to fool us."

"Who's this Olaf yeh's talkin' 'bout?" asked the large bearded thing, whose name, for the sake of simplicity, was O'Chunks. "I think I'd know me own boss."

"Um, yeah, I'd have thought so, too," said the blue woman with a square head, named Nastasia, "But then, this is the first time we've seen his face."

O'Chunks looked from Nastasia to Count Olaf, then scratched his chin. "Now that yeh mention it, it is."

"This is really the first time you've seen your own boss' face?" said Al.

"Well, his cloak is so super-dark, we can't make out anything beneath it," said the nondescript little girl, Mimi. "But why would someone masquerade as Count Bleck?"

"I've already explained this to you," said Dimentio. "He is, most assuredly, Count Bleck."

"You can't be trusted," said Xander. "I saw you working with him before."

"Um, yeah," said Nastasia, "Count Bleck and Dimentio have worked together for ages, 'K? So saying that you have seen them working together doesn't prove anything."

"You're wasting your breath, brick layer," said Dimentio. "Who do you think they're going to listen to, when forced to choose between two friends and one stranger?"

"What's going on here?" said Al. "Xander? You're not really a construction worker, are you?"

Xander glanced at Al. "No, I am. It's just that… well, when your life is as interesting as mine, you meet a lot of folks like these."

"Like what? Is there something wrong with Count Bleck?"

Xander didn't know how to answer that yet. Count Olaf wasn't supernatural, and his mutant cardboard henchmen were obviously being dismissed as masks or muppets or something. He couldn't give Al the whole truth.

"Count Bleck is a pseudonym for Count Olaf, a dangerous criminal and kidnapper," said Xander.

"Criminal? Kidnapper?" Al laughed. "Really, now. Did Tim put you up to this?"

"No! It's the truth!"

Al continued to laugh and patted Xander on the back. "You always do come up with the funniest stories."

Xander was no psychologist, but he lived in Sunnydale, so he knew that people were capable of doubting the truest of things if they seemed crazy enough. He also knew that he might strain his own relationship with Al if he continued to argue against the Count. And since Al would not be willing to die at Xander's word if he didn't like him, Olaf/Bleck would have to stay for now.

"Yeah, you got me," he said. "I'm a crazy liar." He glared at Count Olaf, trying to motion with his eyes that if he and his group of probably superhuman thugs didn't leave now, he would find a way to make them leave or, more likely, die trying, which would certainly strain their relationship with Al.

"Well, now that you have your script, I'll be leaving," Count Olaf said.

"Good bye, then," said Xander. "I'll tell Buffy that you're in town."

Count Olaf left with his superhuman thugs, and Xander sat down on the couch.

"So," said Al, "up for a game of Reversi?"

*

The following night, when the Scooby Gang showed up at the Rochester Theatre, Olaf and Bleck's gang were already there, anxiously supervising as Tim built a new stage on top of the old one.

"You were only hired to build the set," said Count Olaf. "Why are you building another stage when I have already told you that I am in a hurry?"

"Don't get your cloak in a twist, Bleck," said Tim. "I'll be done before the premier."

Frustrated, Count Olaf turned to Mimi, and began to raise his foot to kick her in frustration, when he noticed Buffy et al. standing inside the building.

"O'Chunks," Count Olaf whispered, "would you please tell those young adults that they are not supposed to be here?"

O'Chunks agreed, then lumbered towards the group. He stood before them, crossing his arms across a torso that seemed as thick as Buffy's and Faith's combined.

"Sorry," he said, "but yeh're gonna have to scram."

"Ohhh," said Faith. "And I wanted to see the Tool Man break something."

"I'm not going to break anything!" shouted Tim from the far side of the room, getting up with such force that he knocked his toolbox onto Xander's foot.

"Sorry, but yeh _have _to leave," said O'Chunks. "Or else."

In response, Buffy removed her jacket and stretched her arms. "Your choice. But I hope Count Whatever has good a good med plan."

"Trust me, lass, yeh don't wanna do this," said O'Chunks. "I wager I've got more chunks in one o' me arms than the lot of yeh have in yer whole bodies."

"Probably," said Faith. "And more in your head."

Al suddenly glanced in the direction of the confrontation. "Hey! I think a fight is breaking out!"

"Hey, Count Bleck," said Tim. "Tell your goon not to hurt those girls, will ya?"

"I will have you know that those girls are holding weapons and are currently attempting to rob us," Count Olaf said. "It is very brave of O'Chunks to stand up to them."

"Yeah, that's just great," said Tim. "You know, I heard that whenever a burglar broke onto the set of _Titanic_, Cameron told Leonardo DiCapprio to take care of it." Tim dropped him hammer hard onto the portion of the ground that happened to contain Xander's other foot. "I'm calling the cops."

Tim got up and headed towards the phone. But before he got there, a series of flashing red lines struck him down.

"Um, yeah," said Nastasia, "I'm going to ask that you don't call the police. O'Chunks can handle the problem without creating a scene, 'K?"

Tim lifted himself back to his feet. "You know, I don't think I really need to call the police. O'Chunks can solve the problem without creating a scene."

"Oh, great," said Buffy. "I hate brainwashing."

"And who told yeh that was brainwashin'?" demanded O'Chunks.

"Lucky guess," she responded. "Now, what do you say we take this fight outside?"

"Hmmm, I guess that would be in me best interest, on a count of Bleck said that those two shouldn't see anythin' they're not ready fer."

With some trouble, O'Chunks got his chunky body from through the doorframe and out into the open. There he stood before them, capitalising on the lack of audience to cross his thick eyebrows in the closest semblance of an angry face he could muster. As he did so, Illyria sneaked back inside the Rochester Theatre.

"Okay, lass. This'll be yer last chance teh run like the bloated, three-dimensional weaklin' that yeh are."

"Bloated?" said Buffy. "You sayin' I'm fat? 'Cause, if so, you're gonna regret it, Chunkie."

And Buffy swung her fist into the monster's chest. Unfazed, O'Chunks grabbed Buffy in his long arms and lifted her above his head. He moved his arms back, preparing a throw, but Faith promptly kicked him in the chest, and he dropped the other Slayer.

"No fair, doublin' up on O'Chunks!" said O'Chunks. "That hero with the stupid moustache never did that!"

"Well, that sounds more like his problem," said Faith, then she kicked him in the chest again, and he tumbled backwards over Buffy's crouched body. He wriggled on the ground for several seconds, during which he endured several kicks, then leapt ferociously to his feet. He began to repeatedly leap surpassingly high into the air, trying to land on the heroes, but due to some gravitational quirk from his world, he fell at a just-noticeably-too-slow speed, and thus never landed on anyone.

So Buffy grabbed a nearby steel rod and hit him in the chest with it.

"Ow!" he shouted. "Now yer usin' weapons? Tell me, do yeh have no noble chunks in yer whole body?"

"For once, I'm going to have to agree with him," interjected Mimi. Only now, she was in her true form, which was green and had a square head. "If you're going to fight like that, then I might have to get involved."

Mimi's cranium began to wobble. A loud, violent crack came from her body, and her head rotated counter clockwise several times before resting limply upside-down. It bloated and become malformed, then six gigantic spider legs popped out, lifting her body off the ground.

"Whoa," said Willow. "Big spider. Very big spider."

The big spider lunged towards Willow and pinned her to the ground with its forelegs. Spike chopped at one of the hind legs, successfully dismembering it. In response, Mimi rotated her head and body to point at him, then dropped a large red four-foot gem. Spike dodged, barely avoiding the stone, then Mimi let go of Willow to follow him.

O'Chunks quickly grabbed a distracted Buffy in one hand and a distracted Faith in the other, then smashed them painfully together. He jerked his arms outward to smash again, but Buffy had the faster reflexes and quickly grabbed Faith's wrists. Faith caught on quickly, and grabbed Buffy's wrists herself. The giant was now unable to pull them far enough apart for another attack.

But he tried. Both girls felt like their arms were about to pop out. But O'Chunks soon tired of the strategy and let Faith go. Buffy promptly swung her into the air, and she landed her feet into his skull. He howled and let go of Buffy too. Still holding Faith's wrists, she swung and kicked O'Chunks in the face.

He lunged back so quickly that both Slayers fell off, but he still didn't fall down.

"Damn," said Buffy. "How much pain is this bastard willing to take?"

Mimi leapt at Spike, shooting a stream of red rupees at him.

"Don't you have any respect for the value of money?" said Spike.

"Oh, sure I do!" said Mimi. "In fact, I find it very valuable as a projectile!"

"Really? Let me see." Spike grabbed one of the discarded red jewels and threw it into Mimi's head. She swaggered, and another two legs fell off. She crouched and leapt at Spike, and he responded by dropping to his back, catching her with his feet, and slamming her into the ground behind himself. Another leg fell off, but even with only two thin ones left, she was able to move.

O'Chunks turned to look at Mimi, then shook his head. "Really, lass, I'd expect yeh to do better than that."

"Oh, well ex-**cuse **me," said Mimi. "But I couldn't help but notice that your opponents haven't reached the end of _their_ games yet!"

"Well, have yeh noticed that I still have all me legs?" he shouted.

The Scoobies began to look between the two monsters.

"Well, those girls are probably too busy laughing!" responded Mimi. "What kind of fighting style involves jumping around at random? And why would you let go of them just because they were holding hands? What, are you too good to slam them into the ground?"

"That's right," said Faith. "Seriously, who taught you to fight? Ghandi?"

"Hey, if a big guy like that jumped on you, it could hurt," said Spike. "Not like throwing money at you."

"Yea, that's right!" said O'Chunks. "Who throws their _money_ at people?"

"Well, my money's a better weapon than your chunks!"

"Now listen here, missy. Yeh can insult me, yeh can insult me tactics, and yeh could even insult me family, but when yeh insult me chunks, you've gone too far."

"Are you threatening me? Seriously, I've seen Goombas scarier than you."

"That so? Well, how about I knock yeh all the way back to the Minus World, then we'll see who's scary."

That did it. Both O'Chunks and Mimi were now fighting each other, employing jewels and slaps as ferociously as they had before. From this view, it was easy to see that dodging topped neither of their priority lists.

It didn't matter any more, though. With O'Chunks and Mimi distracted, Buffy and her friends made their way back inside the theatre. Illyria was watching Count Olaf closely, and Count Olaf was watching her coldly, but neither made any move.

Nastasia had been watching her boss, but now turned her attention on Buffy.

"Um, yeah, I don't know how you got past O'Chunks and Mimi, but I'm going to have to ask that you leave now, 'K?"

"Not 'K." Faith lunged forward and punched Nastasia in the right side of the head, then she and her allies continued to walk towards Count Olaf.

He sneered at them. "It would appear," said he, "that all of our actors have been injured. We will not be able to rehearse today."

"Gee, that's too bad," said Buffy. "Now you won't be able to assassinate Al, will you?"

"Assassinate?" said Al and Tim in unison.

"Are you nuts?" said Tim, "Bleck may be a sock or two short of a pair, but he isn't a serial killer."

"Tim's right," said Al. "For once. Bleck wasn't the one that came in here and beat up the actors."

"I… that was in self defence," said Buffy.

"You punched Nastasia in the face for no reason," Count Olaf said.

"That was in pre-emptive self defence," said Faith.

Xander bit his lower lip nervously. "I think you're gonna have to leave, guys."

"What!?" said Buffy, but Giles elbowed her in the side.

"He's right," said Giles. "We've gone too far today. There's no need to get Xander into any trouble."

Buffy understood. "Right. We'd better…"

"Just one moment," said Spike. Then, almost casually, he strolled across the room to Count Olaf. Olaf simply raised his eyebrows at the action.

"And what do you think you're going to do Count Bleck, you stupid child?"

"This." In one quick motion, Spike grabbed Count Olaf's head between his hands and gave it a quick twist. It cracked, and a second later Count Olaf's body was lying motionlessly on the floor. Buffy--and most of her friends--had experienced death before, and she was more annoyed than appalled. Olaf was a human, in biological terms, and Buffy was against his murder, but in moral terms, he was as monstrous as any vampire, so she wasn't going to lose sleep over him.

But Tim and Al were not used to that sort of vigilante justice. The two of them stood there, gaping with their eyes and mouths hanging as open as possible. Tim raised his hands and adjusted his expression, looking like he was about to say something funny, but his face quickly returned to its former state.

"What?" said Spike. "He was evil."

Tim opened his mouth again, but it was several seconds before words came out. "Al, call the police."

Spike swore under his breath before turning and running. Tim tried to give chase, but Al stopped him.

"Don't, Tim. That guy could be dangerous."

Tim turned to his assistant. "Look, Al, I'm sorry this happened."

"It's not your fault, Tim. You never wanted that."

Buffy noticed that O'Chunks, Mimi, and Dimentio had now crowded around Count Olaf's body.

"I can't believe a weakling like that could kill Count Bleck," said O'Chunks through his cries. "How could it…"

"That wasn't the real Count Bleck!" said Buffy. "He was an impostor. I'm sorry, but the real Bleck's probably long dead."

"Bleck's dead, but not long so," said Dimentio. "This was the real Count Bleck. He died only because he let his guard down. You were quite right in saying that never would have happened if he had paid attention. But he didn't. Now, amidst this nightmare, all that's left is to fulfil the Count's dream."

Al looked from the body to Dimentio. "You don't want to finish the play, do you?"

"Of course," said Dimentio. "It's what Count Bleck would have wanted."

"If that's what Count Bleck would have wanted," said Mimi, "then that's what we'll do."

"Damnit," said Buffy. "How many of you will I have to kill before--"

Then she heard the unmistakable sound of a police siren.

"--the police arrive to arrest us." She looked around awkwardly. "You know, I was just kidding about that whole killing you all thing."

The door was opened, and a pair of police officers entered.

"You wanted to report a murder?" said one of the officers.

"Yeah," said Tim. "He was this young guy. British. Blonde. About this tall. And his accomplice over there just threatened to kill the rest of us."

"I never threatened to kill you!" said Buffy. "Just… them."

The other officer approached her. "Ma'am, threatening to murder someone is a serious offence. I'm going to ask that you come with us."

"Gee," said Buffy. "I'd love to, but I have other things to do."

"Perhaps my partner wasn't clear," said the other officer. "You see, that wasn't a request."

"Oh, good," said Buffy. "Because I have no intention of following it."

"Buffy," said Giles, "I really wish you'd just--"

But Buffy didn't listen. She pushed the nearest officer aside and fled towards the door.

Then her leg gave out beneath her. Only when she was on the floor did she remember hearing a gunshot.

"Buffy!" Xander tried to run to her, but Al grabbed his wrist.

"Don't," said Al. "You don't want to get caught up in this."

Xander shoved him aside and ran to Buffy regardless.

She was on the ground, alive and clenching a blood-drenched leg, while the police stood around her.

One said, almost casually, into his walkie-talkie, "We're going to need an ambulance at the Rochester Theatre. Someone attacked us, and we were forced to shoot her."

"She didn't attack you!" shouted Xander. "She was running."

"She shoved me," said the officer.

"But she…"

The officer pulled his gun on Xander. "What's that? Careful, son. If you make a wrong move, I might see a gun in your hand, too."

Xander closed his mouth and glanced back at Buffy.

"Damn, getting shot sucks," said Buffy. "Well, at least it wasn't my chest this time."

"Don't worry, Buff. The ambulance will be here soon."

Buffy scowled at the officers. "If the universe is destroyed while I'm in the hospital, it's your fault."

The officers exchanged glances.

"Don't worry, ma'am," said one. "If that happens, we'll take full responsibility."

*

When Tim came in through the garage door, Jill greeted him almost immediately:

"You _shot_ somebody!?" she said.

"I didn't shoot anybody!" said Tim. "Where'd you hear that?"

"One of your fans called to tell me that there was a shooting at the Royal Oak Music Theatre, but he told me not to worry because the "Tool Man" is fine. So, of course, I realised that if you were there, you must have been involved somehow, and I put 2 and 2 together."

"Yeah? Well, check your math again, hon. The 'Tool Man' was innocent. The police shot the girl."

Unseen outside, Angelus peeked through the window so that he could get a better view of the Buffy-related discussion.

"And the girl they shot was a murderer," continued Tim.

"Well, what exactly happened? There must be more to it than that."

"I don't know the whole story. A gang showed up. One of the members murdered Bleck and ran, then another one threatened to kill everyone else, and got shot."

("Ask if she's alive," said Angelus.)

"Wait a minute. Bleck's dead?"

"Yeah. But you know what the worst part is? It's the way I treated him. He wasn't really that bad a guy, but I saw the worst in him wherever I looked."

"Well, people tend to see the worst in others when that's what they're looking for. But that doesn't mean you need to beat yourself up over what happened. Okay, so you were a pretty big jerk. He probably died thinking you were an obnoxious, immature, stupid…"

"Not helping."

"You didn't let me finish. You were a jerk, but you didn't kill him. Being nicer wouldn't have saved him. And… for what it's worth, he was pretty eccentric. Chances are he's used to that kind of attention. In fact, it wouldn't surprise me if he was trying to get your goat."

"You really think so?"

"I know so. Trust me; being nice to him would have been the worst thing you could have done.

Tim smiled at Jill and kissed her gently. "Thanks. But that wasn't even my biggest problem."

"It gets worse?"

"Much worse. I think Xander used to be in the gang."

"Your construction assistant?"

"Yeah. He seemed to know them."

"Wow. Well, how did he get along with them? Is he on good terms with them? Is he dangerous? Are they going to go after him? Are they going to go after _you_?"

"I don't know. All I know is that he told them to leave, and they did. A little too easily, if you ask me."

"Well, we need to do something. And not just for Xander. The whole family will need to go into the Witness Protection Program."

"I know. We talked to the police, they said they'll set something up for us. But Xander refused. Can you believe that? There's a gang after him, and he's more concerned with discussing knitting with Al. I can't decide if that makes him manly or fruity."

Angelus had enough. He'd be willing to put up with a lot of annoying schtick to find Buffy, but the Very Special Episode routine was starting to turn his stomach. So, without so much as a knock, he slid open their back door and stepped into the house.

"And who are you?" asked Jill.

"I'm a friend of Buffy," said Angelus. "The girl who was shot."

"Oh, God!" exclaimed Jill.

"No, I don't mean I'm in her gang," said Angelus. "I used to date her before she joined them. I tried to stop her, but she wouldn't listen."

"Well, I'm not surprised," said Tim. "Your ex is a bit like a female Manson, you know."

Jill elbowed Tim in the sides.

"Now look here, you big-mouthed, small-brained reject from a Road Runner cartoon," said Angelus. "Buffy may have left me, but I still love her, and I will be _damned_ if I'm going to sit here and let a moron like you insult her!"

"Now, wait a minute," said Jill. "I'll admit that Tim may have stepped out of line, but that's no excuse to talk to him like that."

"I don't believe in holding things in," said Angelus. "I loved Buffy so much, and hearing her put down by some dumbass who prances around on television and grunts like an ape while chanting 'more power' over and over again in a misguided attempt to draw attention away from his latent misogyny was more than I could stand."

"Hey!" said Tim. "I don't prance."

"Look," said Angelus, "I just want to know where Buffy is. Could you tell me what hospital she's in?"

"Of course," said Jill. "They took her to the Beaumont Hospital."

"Thanks," said Angelus.

"You should see her," said Jill. "After what happened, I think it would be a great comfort to her to know that you still love her, even after everything she's done."

"Don't worry," said Angelus. "I'll make sure she knows exactly how I feel."

Tim had been deep in thought, but chose to surface for one question before Angelus left. "Hey, wait a second. Misogyny. That's that word those critics keep using in their reviews of _Tool Time_. What's that mean, anyway?"

"What, are you stupid or something? You hate women. Or at least you pretend to."

"Now hold on one second!" thundered Tim.

"You heard me. You hate women because they remind you of the vagina you've always wanted."

Tim had to retreat into thought again to straighten out what had just been said. "What!?"

"Need me to break it down further, Tool Man? Okay. You want to be a woman. But you're not, and your jealousy drives you to hate anyone that is. You're always talking about 'men' and 'power' because you want to believe that power is a man's domain, and that woman is inferior. Because that's the only way you can convince yourself to get up every morning, in that hairy male body of yours."

"Whoa, whao! You're way off base, there, buddy."

"No, I don't think so. Just look at your show. Look at Al. You always tease him, especially his sensitivity and his confidence with his own feminine side, because it is that glimpse of femininity in a man, that one sliver of womanhood that you've always wanted, and that seems so close, that you've never been able to find in yourself. So you hate Al for the same reason you hate women: because they have what you desire above all else. Then there's your fake obsession with tools. Yes, fake. I mean, if you really liked tools, you'd be better with them. You aren't. But if you surround yourself with tools, which you obviously see as the pinnacle of masculinity, then you feel that your masculine accessories are drawing the male gaze to you. And drawing the male gaze is probably the only think you can do, pathetic and demeaning as it may be, that makes you feel like you know what it's truly like to be a woman. Then there's Heidi."

"What about Heidi?"

"Look at the way you make her dress on the show. You do that because you know that, if you make sure everyone sees her as nothing but a sex object, she'll never accomplishes anything meaningful. Good going, asshole."

But as he left, Angelus decided, for perhaps the first time since he was sired, to let his victims live. Not out of generosity, of course, but he still wasn't sure if there was an afterlife in this world, and he realised that it would be much more fun to let these worms live so that they could squirm with fear as their own Universe collapsed around them. That's the sort of suffering you just can't get with everyday, run-of-the-mill murder.

Tim, meanwhile, just glanced uneasily at Jill, then hid his face from her glare.

"Jill, you don't think I'm a massagist, do you?"

Jill simply asked him, coldly, "Why do you make Heidi dress like that?"

Tim was going to say, "For ratings," but decided against it.

*

"You know, Xander, you did the right thing today," said Al. "I know it doesn't feel like it now, but those friends of yours were dangerous."

"Believe me," said Xander, "I know that as well as anyone. That doesn't make it any easier, though."

"Oh, I know," said Al. "Losing someone you love is never easy. I've lost two people who were both very important to me in the last few months. Say, would it cheer you up if I let you read through the script?"

"Sure," said Xander. "I'm sorry to hear about your losses, by the way." Though the only death he could remember seeing in the show was that of Al's mom. "Do you mind if I ask…"

"No, it's okay," said Al. "The first person was my mom. You know how it is. She was getting old, and she never took very good care of herself."

"I'm sorry."

"Then there was my friend, Wilson."

"Wilson's dead!?"

"Did you know him?"

"Yeah. I mean, not very well. I had a friend who met him while he was studying the… Uruk-hais of southern Mordor."

"Wow. And all this time I thought those things and places only existed in the _Lord of the Rings."_

"Er… that's where Peter Jack--I mean Tolkien got the names from."

"Really?"

"Yeah. What happened to Wilson?"

"I don't know. He just went on a trip to somewhere--he never really told anyone--then, a few weeks later, we got word that he'd been murdered. Then three old friends of his moved into his house."

"Could you describe these friends?"

"Why?"

"Just curious."

"Well, have you ever read _Macbeth_?"

"Let's just say the work holds a special place in my memory."

"Okay, good. Now, I know this might sound a bit rude, but they kinda acted a lot like the three witches."

"Really? That's odd. On an unrelated note, can I use your phone to make a private call?"

*

One of the three witches answered before Giles could even knock on the door.

"So it is you," he said.

"Indeed, we've chose to move away

From Scotland, living here to stay

Where Al is near and Wilson gone."

"His life was lost outside his lawn."

"Why?" asked Giles. "What happened to Wilson?"

"To Tim, his neighbour was a sage,

Yet Wilson was beyond a mage.

T'was he who kept the worlds in bloom

By sending souls to life post doom."

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?" said Giles. "That Wilson.. a character from a second-rate sitcom.. was the one who sent each Battery to its new body? That he was the Faceless One?"

"Indeed, we say exactly that.

While Wilson lives and helps the gnat,

His life is like the world's great heart.

To work, from Tim he must depart.

T'was then the First had struck in hate."

"And smashed to bits the people's fate.

The First took Wilson's soul from bone,

And keeps it now within a stone."

"I see," said Giles. "This is the stupidest thing by far to happen in this entire adventure."

*

For a while, Xander had worried that Count Olaf was right, and his negligible literary skills would be the downfall of the multiverse. When he arrived in _Macbeth_, his greatest fear had been that he'd get someone killed by forgetting a crucial plot point or missing some blatant foreshadowing. Since then, every time Xander prepared to enter another universe, he'd been terrified that he'd end up in another book, and someone else would get hurt because of him. Then he found himself in Al's apartment, and he was the only one available to read Count Olaf's script. Olaf. The man who had first drawn the connection between Xander's C- literacy, and his liability as a Scooby. He knew while opening the book that this would be a dense, complicated work of fiction that might have taken Giles a good night to decipher. His only hope would be to sit his ass down, force his entire brain to concentrate, and wade through the words one at a time, hoping to get enough out of the prose to at least stunt Olaf's plan.

_---_

_Mike. Hello, Mart. How has your luck with the confidence game been going?_

_Mart. Not good. I hope you've been having more success._

_Mike. In fact, I have recently swindled some old ladies out of their life savings._

_Mart. Oh, I wish I could do that, but I always lose my nerve. Is there anything I can do about this conscience?_

_Mike. A conscience is like a child. Ignore it long enough, and it dies._

---

Xander rubbed his eyes and re-read the passage. Amazing. Either he'd become a lot smarter and more observant since high school, or Count Olaf was even less literate than he was. Though he supposed there was the third option, which was that _The Horrific Hamlet_ was intended as a gateway work to more complicated books, like the _Dick and Jane_ series.

It was an hour and a half before he finished the play. No sooner did he reach the last page than did he finally figure out Count Olaf's plan.

_---_

_Mike. But how could you, Mart? I thought you were my friend?_

_Mart pulls the trigger of his gun, and Mike falls down dead._

_Mart. Because I needed more power._

_---_

"Where are you going to get the gun?" asked Xander.

"What a silly question," said Al. "The troupe have their own props."

"Mind if I make another call?"

"No, go ahead. But why do you keep making calls in the middle of our conversations?"

Xander tried to think of something that didn't sound too sit-com-y.

"Well, why do you keep putting conversations around my phone calls?"

Al just laughed and told Xander he reminded him of Groucho Marx.

_Well,_ Xander thought, _at least I'm not Zeppo anymore. _

*

She caught another of the nurses staring at her, but that one tried to pretend she wasn't, too.

In some ways, the eye patch was a blessing. People might follow an unfamiliar two-eyed nurse who carried a syringe through the hospital corridor, but they'd look rude if they so much as stared at a one-eyed woman. She felt confident that no one was following her.

Then she finally arrived in the Slayer's room. Buffy was sleeping, thanks to the drugs the doctors had so helpfully shot her full of.

The nurse smiled as she pulled out the syringe, then looked down at the sleeping victim. After all the monsters and freaks that had attacked her, it seemed ironic that a normal, human assassin would finally kill her. (Or is ironic the right word?)

As she stuck the needle in the Slayer's bare arm, Elle Driver suddenly felt a great pride in her profession.

*

-

*

Elle Driver and _Kill Bill_ were created by Quentin Tarantino and are owned by Miramax Films and A Band Apart.


	24. VI iii

Lost Count

Elle grabbed Buffy's arm and pointed the syringe towards it.

Then she felt a strong grip on her wrist.

"Someone," she said, "has made a really fucking stupid move."

She spun to face whoever made the stupid move, expecting to find a horny doctor or a drunk. Before she could focus, she felt the excruciatingly painful sensation of her arm breaking.

"Sorry," said the man responsible. "But I've seen _Kill Bill_, so I know what would have happened to me if I left that arm intact. Now, however, we can have a nice, peaceful conversation."

Elle grabbed her broken arm. "Angel?"

"Angelus," he replied. "Familiar with me?"

"Sorry, must have missed that episode. Could you just give me the cliff note?"

"Sure. Basically, I am what happens when you take every bit of goodness in that sissy Angel and replace it with evil, hate, and torture."

"So, what, you're his evil twin or something?"

"More like his true self. But I'm here for a reason." He grabbed Elle's arm and pulled her away from Buffy. "You can't kill her. I need her alive."

"And why would that be?"

"So I can figure out where she's keeping her mom."

"This must be _Last Year at Marienbad,_ 'cause I have no idea what the fuck's going on. Why do you want her goddamn mother? Do you want to kill her to piss Buffy off or something?"

"Oh, I'm not nice enough to just kill her myself."

"Ah," said Elle with a nod. "You're going to vamp her."

"Never go for the kill; always go for the hurt."

"Well, as a professional assassin, I think I'm qualified to say that you're a sick piece of shit."

"Don't worry—you'll come around." Angelus lunged forward and bit hard into Elle's neck.

*

"Are you sure that Tim plus gun equals okay?" said Xander.

"Well, Tim plus gun minus ammo seems okay to me," said Al.

"This is Tim we're talking about," said Xander. "Let's face it, he could make a nerf gun dangerous."

"Tim isn't going to load the weapon," said Al.

That line of thought, true as it may be, was dangerously unlikely to keep Al from the play. "Two words: More Power."

"Look. If you're that concerned about this, I'll talk to Tim."

"And what do you think he'll do then?"

"Well, he'll… look, I know that watching _Tool Time_ makes Tim look kind of dangerous to be around. And, okay, he's just as bad in real life. But Tim's a good man, and he isn't dumb enough play with a loaded gun. Even if he does try to give the blanks more power—and he won't—they're still blanks, and blanks aren't dangerous. I think."

Xander had seen enough sitcoms to know where a line like that was heading, so he pushed forward with rejuvenated hope. "Even if that's true, do you really want to get hit by his 'More Power' blanks?"

"Well, not really, no. But what about Count Bleck?"

"I can assure you, he won't care." That had slipped out, and Xander realised immediately that he would have probably been better off keeping that witty statement to himself.

"Xander!" Al said coldly. "That's not funny."

"Oh, it's not?" said Xander. "Sorry."

"You should be," said Al. "And I'll tell you something else. I think it would be best if you left the construction job."

"Come on! It's nothing Tim wouldn't say!"

"You don't know Tim at all if you believe that. He makes jokes, sure, but he has limits. That's why he's my friend. You had better leave."

"But…"

"That was not a request," said Al firmly. "If you don't leave now, I shall be forced to make you."

Xander look into Al's eyes. It was funny—he was trying as hard as he could to save this man's life, yet he couldn't help but feel like he had betrayed him. But to leave now would be a worse betrayal.

"But…"

Al picked up the phone and punched three numbers. "Hello? This is Al Borland. I have a trespasser in my house."

Then Xander decided that getting arrested would be an even bigger betrayal. Without another word, he left.

Fortunately, his return to the Scoobies had provided some mitigation.

"Don't worry about it, Xander," said Giles. "We all say things we shouldn't some times. Besides, we didn't really need you at Al's place anymore. We already know when and how the troupe are going to strike."

"But how do we know they aren't going to shoot him before then?" asked Xander.

"Because they haven't yet," said Giles. "Whoever those others are, they seem to be working towards the original plan, ineffective as it may be. I think that Count Olaf never truly understood the repercussions of the First Evil's plan, and was trying to frame Mr. Taylor for the crime so that he could continue to live in this world without having to worry about being convicted of Al's murder. Either that or he's just an ass, I couldn't say for sure."

"That's great and everything," said Faith, "but we still need a plan by Monday."

"Well, I see two options," said Giles. "We could try to kill the troupe before the show tomorrow, but with Buffy hospitalised, and Angel at headquarters, we'd be at a disadvantage in a fight. Besides, killing more people isn't going to make Al trust us, and that's just as important right now. Our other option is to make sure the bullet doesn't kill Al."

"What if we altered his costume?" said Faith. "You know, put some bullet-proof vest in it."

"That's a good start," said Giles, "but it won't protect him from shots to the head."

"We could unload the gun before the play," said Xander.

"Too risky," said Giles. "They might not load it until right before the play."

"Oh!" exclaimed Willow. "But what if I enchanted the bullets? I mean, there's a simple spell I could cast that would make any bullets they put inside the gun just sort of fall out when the gun is fired. The only problem is, I'll have to find a way to cast the spell on the gun first."

"That might work, actually," said Giles. "And I think I know how to get to the gun without raising anyone's suspicion."

*

"Al?"

Al turned to face Tim. It was the first time he saw the Tool Man's costume, and it only now dawned on him how sharply his Elizabethan wardrobe clashed with his riffle. "Hm?"

"What's wrong? You keep looking at the doors like they're made of gingerbread."

Al glanced back at the door before returning to Tim's face. "Well, I'm scared. Maybe I shouldn't have kicked Xander out. What if he's dangerous?"

"Al. I've spoken with Xander. Trust me when I say that no man who knows _that_ much about _Spider-Man_ could possibly be dangerous. Okay, so he made a really mean joke. Are you worried that the creators of _South Park_ are going to come after you, too?"

"Well, I don't think he would've made that joke if he had any respect for human life whatsoever. And he is part of a gang. Who knows? Maybe he's killed people before. And it would explain why can't keep a job. I mean, the guy that killed Bleck was the one who said Xander had a bladder problem, and I know that isn't true!"

"Don't worry. If he was going to do anything, he would have done it before."

"Or he wanted to wait until he had a weapon."

"And you had police backup? I doubt it. And what if he does? You can't spend your life worrying that some nerd with a machete's going to go after you."

"Well, that's easy for you to say!" Al turned away. "You're not the one in danger."

"That's true, but you know what? If I was, you wouldn't hear me complaining. If that kid came after me, you know what I'd do? I'd…"

A loud gunshot rung through the room. With the grace of a three-legged gazelle, Al dove to the ground. The next thing he heard was Tim, hollering and grunting in pain. Al's heart almost stopped when he thought of what his temper could have done to his best friend.

"Tim! Oh, my gosh, did they get you?"

"That wasn't them!" said Tim. "My gun went off and shot me in the foot."

"It what!?" said Al. "You mean you actually _loaded it_?"

"Of course not!" said Tim. "I'm not stupid! It was already loaded. Why was the gun loaded!?" he shouted at Dimentio.

"Silly Tool Man," responded Dimentio. "It was Count Bleck's dying wish. He wanted his play to be as realistic as possible."

"What?" said Tim. "Was he trying to kill Al or something?"

"The gun really _was_ loaded?" said Al.

"Alas, it would seem the cat is out of the bag," said Dimentio. "We must move to plan B. O'Chunks? Mimi? Kill them."

"What!?"

Instinctively, Tim pointed his riffle at Dimentio. "Run, Al! I'll hold them off!"

"Shoot at me if you want," said Dimentio. "You will accomplish nothing."

"Yeah? Just tempt me," said Tim.

Tim pointed the gun from one killer to another, but none seemed intimidated by the firearm.

Suddenly, the door was kicked off the handles. A blond woman with an eye patch and a samurai sword walked through.

"Sorry, but I can't let you kill him," she said.

"Thank heavens," said Al.

"Oh, sorry if I misled you," she said. "You're still going to die. It's just that I can't let you die _yet_."

"Why do so many people want to kill Al?" said Tim. "Do you just hate flannel that much?"

"Flannel bothers us only because the world does," said Dimentio. "The universe is filled with corruption. But once it is destroyed, we will be able to rebuild it in our own image."

"And you need to kill Al because… what, you're afraid he'd rebuild it in _his _image first?" said Tim.

"Not at all," said Dimentio. "This man is no threat. And yet his life force is pivotal to the universe's survival."

"So you're saying that, if Al dies, we all die," said Tim.

"That's actually pretty close," said the one-eyed woman. "Except we won't _all_ die. Not if we know where to hide."

"I'm sorry, but what are you talking about now?" said Tim

"I admit, I dunno meself?" said O'Chunks. "I never heard the Count mention nothin' 'bout any hidin' place."

"Oh, don't pay any attention to any of that stuff," said Dimentio. "Just go after that bearded man and kill him in… oh, shall we say ten minutes?"

"Hm," said the one-eyed woman. "Seems to me that you're in an awful big hurry to get out of here."

"Of course I am!" said Dimentio.

The one-eyed woman ran across the room, leaping over a befuddled O'Chunks' head, and grabbed Al from behind. She motioned her sword across his throat.

"You said it'll take you, what, ten minutes to escape this world before it dies? Wanna see if I can slit fatty's throat before that?"

"Go ahead and kill him," said Mimi. "It's not going to kill us. Just ruin the plant life and architecture and ozone and all that icky stuff. At least until we rebuild everything."

"Really?" said the one-eyed woman. "You sure that's all that'll happen? Willing to bet your life on it? Well, I'll tell you what. I'm not in the mood to risk my neck here, so why don't we all just leave with him together?"

*

"Now, does everyone understand the plan?" said Giles.

The door flew open, and a woman in an eye patch ran out, holding a sword to Al's throat.

"Oh shit," she said after seeing the Scooby Gang. "Looks like the cavalry's here. Well, doesn't matter." She held the blade tighter against Al's skin. "Any of you make one move, and I slit this pig's throat right now."

"Miss, listen to me," said Giles. "You do not want to do that."

"No? Why? Is it because killing him will destroy the universe, wiping everyone, including me, from existence?"

"I take it from your tone that you know that's exactly what will happen."

"Of course. Angelus told me."

"And you're still willing to kill everyone, including yourself?"

"Well, it seems to me that it doesn't matter because, chances are, I won't have to. Some people believe the difference between a hero and a villain is that the hero isn't afraid of dying. But that isn't it. Us bad guys don't have to be afraid of dying. The real difference is that the good guys are afraid of letting _other_ people die. If I slit this man's throat, a lot of people are going to die. Now, obviously, neither of us wants to die. I'm not so sure I'm more afraid of death than you are, mind. After all, I did choose to become an assassin, so I risk my life every day. But I know for a fact that each and every one of you wants everyone else to live a lot more than I do." She slid the blade slightly against Al's neck. "So, really, who has more to lose here?"

"Hold on a minute."

Tim limped weakly onto the parking lot, leaning against a wall to relieve the pressure on his injured foot.

"Look," he continued, "I don't know exactly what's going on here, except that it involves a _lot_ of crazy people, but I can tell that at least some of you have your hearts in the right place."

"Spare it, Mr. Brady," said Elle dismissively. "We don't need this."

"See, I think you do," said Tim. "This reminds me of something my good friend, Wilson, once mentioned to me. According to the famous political animator, Hanna Arendt Barbara, 'The sad truth is that people are evil because they can't make up their minds.' What she means is that a lot of people who do bad things don't realise it. Now, take you. You think you're doing the right thing. But you're not. You're killing Al in the hopes that you'll kill, what, billions more people so that you can rebuild the universe as some kind of fruitopia?"

"Far, far more than a few measly billions," said Elle. "And you know what? I still don't care. I'm not doing this for the utopia, I'm doing it for the prestige. You know what they say. Kill a man, and you're a murderer. Kill many men, and you're a conqueror. Kill them all, and you're a god. I'm paraphrasing a bit, but my point is that I've killed men. Lots of them. Isn't becoming a god the next logical step? And, for future reference, I know damn well that I'm doing the 'wrong' thing. Gods can get away with that."

"You're crazy, lady, you know that!?" shouted Tim.

"So was Van Gogh," she said. "But he was an artist. And for me? Well, an apocalypse would be just like my own _Starry Night Over the Rhone._"

"Too bad no one would be around to appreciate it. Hypothetically, of course."

"Well, the important thing is that I'll know. Or not."

"But that isn't exactly what the Count wanted," said Mimi. "Sure, he was willing to kill some people to make the world better, but that wasn't _why_ he was doing it. And you know what else? I don't think killing Al is going to bring this world one lick closer to becoming better."

"Gasp!" spoke Dimentio. "To think you'd speak so ill of the dead! Did we not swear loyalty to Count Bleck when he was alive? Why should that change with his death?"

"I don't think this is what Bleck would have wanted," said Mimi.

"Bleck wanted what--"

"You know, I'm getting really sick of his whining," said Faith.

She pulled a stake from her belt and tossed it hard at Dimentio, aiming for the spot between his slit-like eyes.

But it somehow managed to miss.

"Hm," said Faith. "That's interesting."

"Did that stick just pass _through_ his head?" said Tim.

"That's not possible!" said O'Chunks. "Dimentio innit a ghost."

"Then that confirms it," said Faith. "That isn't the real Dimentio. It's the First Evil."

"The First Evil?" said Mimi. "What's that?"

"I dun care who it is," said O'Chunks, "But I'd like teh know where the real Dimentio is at."

"Dead," said Faith. "The First Evil couldn't take his form otherwise."

"Yeah, I thought so," said Elle. "The Big Bad himself, here to watch the show live?"

"I had to come," said the First Evil, still channelling Dimentio. "The show had to go on with a complete cast, despite the insubordination of some actors."

"Insuborwha?" said O'Chunks.

"That means disloyal," said Mimi. "I guess that Dimentio found out that this First Evil thingy was trying to jerk Count Bleck around. That must be why he was killed."

"But what about the Count?" said Nastasia.

"Whether Count Bleck is alive or dead is not important," said the First Evil. "Whether Al is alive or dead is." Then the First turned to Elle. "How'd you like me to make you a deal? If you agree to work for me, then I'll take you with me to Oz, and make you my vessel. You'll be much stronger and, with your skill and agility, nearly invincible!"

"Hm," said Elle. "So you get a much stronger servant. But what's in it for me?"

"Weren't you listening?" said the First. "You'll be invincible. You'll be able to kill anyone you want. Drink all the blood you want. Think about it!"

"I did," said Elle. "And I seem to recall the residence of Oz being immortal, so there goes your 'kill anyone you want' pitch. Sorry, but I don't like being bullshited."

Then, with a sudden, violent motion, Elle slid her sword sharply across Al's throat. Almost casually, she flipped the blood from the weapon to the ground, then turned to the First Evil and smiled.

"Why did you do that?" demanded the First.

"I just told you. I don't like being bullshited."

"You're even stupider than a rock if you think that was a bright idea. I am an incorporeal being who will be inside my ship and leaving this world within five seconds, whereas you are and will not. Ciao."

There was a bright flash, and the First Evil finally vanished through a short-lived hole in reality itself. Elle turned back towards Al's body, which lay on the ground with his head against a rock.

Giles was already kneeling by his body. "For the love of God, would somebody get an ambulance?"

"Now, sit here like good heroes and make sure Al doesn't die too soon," said Elle. "I'd love to stay, but I've got places to go."

"He's not really going to save you, you know," said Spike. "Angelus, I mean."

"Sure he is," said Elle. "While I was here, killing the fat man, he was stealing the First Asshole's precious trans-dimension portal. I'd love to see the look on Mr. Incorporeal Being's face when he realises that his pawn just fucked him over."

"You could try a mirror, love," said Spike. "Because your gonna have that same look before long. Angelus sees evil as an art form, and himself as an artist. Getting you to kill Al yourself while he leaves you behind to die from the aftermath is pretty pedestrian, as far as he goes."

Elle turned back to Spike. "Well duh. I'm not retarded. I know he's evil. What do you think Bill said to B______ right before killing her husband? Well, I'll tell you this, he sure the fuck didn't tell her what we were going to do. But you know what? He wouldn't have done that if she'd stayed with the DVAS, and Angelus isn't going to leave me behind because, unlike the First, I haven't been trying to use him. Screwing over your friends isn't just evil—it's stupid evil. And Angelus don't strike me as no stupid evil."

"Right," said Spike. "And I suppose you really believe--" Then he threw a stake directly at Elle's heart.

She drew her sword and sliced the stake clean in half. The two parts lodged themselves in her chest, but she promptly pulled both out and threw them at Spike. He got one in each shoulder. He reached back to pull them out, and Elle capitalised on the opening and swung. Illyria intervened at the last second, grabbing the sword. Spike kicked Elle hard in the chest, and she was knocked away from her blade. Spike grabbed the weapon himself and swung towards Elle's neck, but she leapt straight into the air and over the sword, then connected a roundhouse to Spike's face on the way down. She then grabbed her sword back, and she thrust it through Illyria's right leg. Illyria recovered in less than a minute, but by then, Elle had escaped.

Tim ran towards Al, but Giles held out his arm to stop him.

"Don't," he said. "If we move him, he could get worse."

Giles looked back at Al. The world wasn't destroyed, or even shaking, so Al wasn't dead or dying yet. Small comfort.

The ambulance arrived shortly afterwards. Unfortunately, at Tim's insistence, Giles and company were barred from riding to the hospital.

Fortunately, Spike was able to hotwire Tim's car, so the Scooby Gang had been able to follow only a few minutes behind.

Unsurprisingly, the receptionist refused to direct them to Al's room.

"Tim said not to let you go up," she said. "He told me you're part of a gang."

"Well, that's Tim for you," said Spike. "He meant to say we're part of the old gang. We grew up with Tim and Al."

"Didn't Tim and Al meet on _Tool Time_?"

"Yes… ostensibly. But stranger things have happened, right?"

"Nice try."

"Not buying it, huh?"

"No. I'm sorry, but…"

"Would Mr. Howard please report to room 5057?" interrupted the PA system. "That's Mr. Howard to 5057?"

"Shouldn't that be Dr. Howard?" said Giles.

"Mr. Howard's the janitor."

"Room 5057, was it?" said Spike. "Okay, guys. Let's go."

The receptionist realised her mistake too late. She tried to remedy it by reaching for the phone, but Illyria promptly plucked it from the desk and tossed it to the far wall. Soon, the gang reached room 5057. Inside, Tim sat alone on a chair, clutching a bloodied bandage over his right hand, while an irate janitor cleaned up broken glass.

"Sorry about that, Mr. Howard," said Tim. "I was just worried about Al."

"Must have been if that was all you were able to break," retorted the janitor.

Then Tim noticed his visitors.

"How did you find me?"

"'Would the janitor please go to room 5057?'" repeated Spike. "Statistically speaking, the chances of anything in a hospital that contains you being broken by someone other than you are tiny."

Tim lowered his head. "You know, it's your fault Al's here."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really. Why'd you have to drag him into your stupid feud? Couldn't you fight in an alley or something, where only you idiots would get hurt? Now, thanks to you, my best friend could be dead."

"Trust me, he's not dead," said Giles.

"You'd better be right," said Tim. "Because if Al does die, I'm going to see to it that you pay. Now scram."

Instead of leaving, Illyria grabbed the bed sheet, tore it into ribbons, and rapidly hog-tied Tim. He screamed, but she promptly wrapped another piece of cloth tightly over his mouth. Once she finished restraining the limbs, she slid her victim into a nearby closet and locked the door. The plan garnered angry looks from some of her companions.

"It needed to be done," pointed out Spike.

There were no arguments about that, so the group decided to sit and wait for Al's awakening. No one knew what they were going to do, but they knew they'd be just as well-off doing it there.

It was an hour before Al was returned to his hospital room. It was clear by then that he wouldn't die, but everyone was still worrying about how they'd convince him of their story. Even Giles almost wanted to shake him out of his sleep so that he could get the interview over with.

The seconds during which Al first began to shuffle had been the most tense in their life. After what seemed like ages, Al groggily opened his eyes and looked around, his face showing confusion in place of recognition or fear.

Giles' heart leapt with hope, though he was quick to chastise his joy. Still, there was no denying that if Al had hit his head after collapsing, the inevitable amnesia would only help their cause.

"Who are you?" asked Al. "Who am _I_?"

"You're Al," said Xander. "You're…"

"…a warrior in the battle of good versus evil," said Giles.

Al looked at Giles sceptically. "Really?"

"Yes, of course. Don't you remember?"

"Actually, my memory's a bit foggy. So, what exactly is my role in the battle?"

"Do you believe in the supernatural?" asked Xander quickly.

Al seemed to think it over hard, but he ended up saying, in a tone that suggested surprise to even himself, "Yes. I feel like I've seen something that would make me a fool to say I didn't."

"Well, basically, you're our messiah," said Giles. And then Giles proceeded to tell a variation of the truth that fit with that summary.

When he finished, he waited for a reaction from Al.

"Wow," said Al. "That's big. I can't believe I'm so important."

Fortunately, the way he said it proved that he did believe.

*

It was late at night when the group finally returned to the hotel. Their first order of business was to check in on Joyce and ask if Buffy had called from prison (or, at the least, arrived fresh from her breakout). The room itself was devoid of human life, but not of the signs of it. The floor was drenched in minute traces of blood and, in a mixed blessing, dust. Giles' first instinct had been that either Angelus or Elle had attacked—and been killed by—Buffy.

"Giles?" said Willow weakly. "I think you should look at this."

Giles cleaned his glasses nervously before looking at the note. Willow's tone had already told him what had happened, but reading the note, and losing the last bit of hope that he could be wrong, was still painful.

_Joyce is dead. Angelus is to blame. I've killed him, so you can free Angel now._

_By the way, I won't be accompanying you when you go after the next Bearer. I'm sorry if it feels like I'm abandoning you again, but with Faith's help, you shouldn't need me. Besides, I have more important things to do._

_The First Evil has a damn strong power source, and I'm going to find out what it is. With luck, I'll be able to use it to kill him/her/whatever._

_Love,_

_Buffy._

*

*

*

*

SEVERAL WEEKS LATER…

There was a loud knock at the Taylor's front door. Given the recent spike in the crime rate, Jill was reluctant to answer, instead relying on the peephole. On the other side was a blonde woman with a very large umbrella over her head.

She seemed harmless, even with her eyepatch, so Jill opened the door. "Hello?"

"Hey, hi," said the woman with a laugh. "Sorry to disturb you, but could I use your phone? My car broke down, and I need to call my husband."

"Of course. Come on in. It's over there."

The woman stepped over the threshold and leaned her umbrella against the wall. "Thanks. My name's Elle."

"I'm Jill. It's good to meet you."

"Same here. I hope you don't mind the umbrella, but my skin is really sensitive to sunlight. My husband must be worried sick about me, what with all the vampire attacks that have sprung up lately."

"Don't tell me you believe those vampire rumours."

"Well, I may be superstitious, but think about it. The victims are found dead with twin bite marks in their neck. Then, several nights later, people will report that they've been attacked by that same victim. And the attacks always happen at night." Elle quickly closed the blinds as she said that.

"There's a logical explanation for everything," said Jill. "If vampires are real, then why haven't we heard of them before? Why did the vampires arrive so suddenly? A gang suddenly acting up, I could see. Maybe they took up a vampire modus operandi. But creatures of the night?"

"Who knows? Maybe a lone vampire came here from another dimension and started biting people."

"You have a very good imagination, but I suggest you try to get it under control. If you let your thoughts run away with you too much, you could end up like my husband."

"I don't know. Some careers make good use of creativity. Mine, for example, would be incredibly dull if I couldn't add flair to it. Where is Tim, anyway?"

"He's outside trying to fix the lawnmower. How'd you know his name?"

Whatever answer she tried to give was cut off by a loud crash. Jill turned around to find Tim and his lawnmower sitting in the living room. As the clouds and smoke gave way to sunlight, she could see that most of the wall was now gone, creating a hole leading from the shattered windows to the broken back door. Tim was, for the moment, fine.

"Tim!" she shouted.

"Boy, I'm telling you," said Tim, "that new engine I bought sure had a lot of power in it."

"I can't believe you did that! Haven't you been watching the news? We can't have a giant hole in the side of the house when there are all those crimes and attacks going on. Now we're going to have to stay with someone else while we wait for the hole to be repaired. Mark's going to miss school, this is probably going to cost us a fortune."

"Well excuse me. But it seems to me that I'm not the only one that messed up here. I didn't catch the house on fire."

"Not recently, no. What do you want, an award?"

"Don't play dumb with me. I saw…"

Tim was pointing to the far side of the room, but it was vacant.

"See what?" said Jill. "Hey! Where did Elle go?"

"Who's Elle? I was talking about the fire."

"There was no fire. A woman named Elle came in to use our phone. Not that I can blame her for leaving. You probably scared her off when you crashed through the wall."

"Well, I say, good riddance. Look at how much dust she left on the floor! There's no way I'd want someone _that_ dirty staying in my house."


	25. Silverlock Castle 5

At Silverlock Castle, Part 5

I am sure we have all had that daze-like feeling where your body is doing one thing, and your brain only later realises what.

This is what happened to the Scooby Gang. One minute, they were in the apartment, reading aloud from Buffy's note. Next, they were back at Silverlock Castle. They vaguely remember that Dumbledore had met them, greeted them, and taken Al. They also recalled that something was said about Count Bleck's followers, though no one could quite recall whether they were being taken home or taken to prison. It seemed unimportant, and the events of seconds ago seemed like decade-old memories, only half-remembered.

Finally, Xander asked, "Where's Buffy?" And the sudden possibility of new information, important information, made everyone more aware.

"I could not see her," responded Square. "I suspect that she has left that world already."

"How could she do that?" said Giles.

"That, I cannot tell you yet," responded Square. "But if you wish, I could find out."

"You can do that?" said Xander.

"I can. All I need to do is watch Buffy as she enters the world, then follow her through the fourth dimension until she has left it."

Then Square rotated and slipped out from that dimension. He returned minutes later.

"As I suspected, Buffy has left," said Square. "But she is not alone. She has went with two allies—one human, the other not. I do not know who they are, though Buffy seemed to know them, and though she did not appear overly fond of her new companions, she clearly saw them as allies."

"So these others can travel between dimensions?" said Giles.

"I do not know what they can or cannot do on their own. However, they had an automobile that allowed them to leave that plane."

"Automobile?" said Giles. "Who could that… oh, no!"

"Oh no what?" said Spike. "Who is it?"

"Trust me, you'll be happier not knowing," said Giles.

Everyone became very quite. Barring Spike and Faith, they all eventually realised who Buffy was with, and they had mixed feelings. She was probably safer with Jessie and Meowth—assuming they were her new partners—than she would be alone. But those two would not have been anyone's first choice for adventuring companions.

Everyone was in deep thought, reflecting on the past and considering the future, and though they were not in a daze as before, their surroundings had slipped towards the back of their brains. So, when Angel flung the door open, and the physical present was brought to the forefront of consciousness, everyone was startled into giving him full attention.

He looked over the group twice, but it seemed smaller than before. He looked over it a third time to see who was missing.

"Where're Buffy and Joyce?" he asked.

"Not here," said Giles. "Buffy went to do other stuff."

"Oh," said Angel. He could tell from Giles' voice that something was wrong. "What about Joyce?"

Without words, both parties headed into their respective rooms, leaving Angel alone.

He knew that Angelus had done something.

And they all knew that, even Buffyless, they had one more Bearer to find.


	26. Gaiden 3

A _Beyond Spaceland_ Side Story, Part II

*

[The following story is from a manuscript discovered in an abandoned psychiatry ward in April 2007. Although its authenticity a work of P.G. Wodehouse is disputed, some scholars believe it to be the story he referred to when, in a letter to George Orwell, dated September 26, 1945, he wrote:

_Though my time in those prisons must have affected me worse than I suspected. If you could see the sorts of ridiculous torture I put poor Bertie through in that one manuscript I wrote in Upper Silesia, you'd think I left my brains behind in Belgium. And I still don't know what I had against the French._

However, this story may give us, enlightened as we are in the nature of the extra-dimensional, some further understanding of both our universe and Buffy's story.]

*

Jeeves and the Kidnapping

This is not a story I know how to start, because it is not a story I rightly know where, exactly, it began. I could tell you only when I stepped onto the stage of this horrifying drama, but that would leave even the most intelligent of readers scratching their heads and saying, "Well, that's all well and good, Bertram, but I can't see why that happened. Can't you provide a bit of lead-up so as to explain to us how you got into this sticky mess?" And I would be forced to say that, no, I cannot, for I really have no idea how or why I came to be in the soup, or why this particular bowl was so much more scolding than the average. You will have to be content with what I can tell you.

And what that is, unfortunately, starts almost squarely with a monster barging into my bedroom like he owned the place, then picking me up and dragging me off like the above ownership gave him possession of everyone in the room as well. Yet, in a list of everything wrong with this scene, his presence in my room ranked only second. The first was the creature's appearance. I did not just call him a monster because of his behaviour, though that alone would warrant the label. He was the sort of beast you might expect Edward Lear or Lewis Carroll or one of those chaps to describe in one of their nonsense poems, though some input by Lovecraft was evident as well. The creature in mention, you see, looked to have two very large, puffy shoulder muscles. This was my initial impression, but once I was able to have a closer look—and, believe me, I wouldn't have engaged in any action that could use the word "closer" in the description if I could help it—it became apparent that his head was, in fact, a giant arse.

If there is one thing from this ordeal that I can be thankful for, it is this: the monster grabbed me and threw me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes so quickly, I didn't have to stare at his face—or lack thereof—for more than a few seconds. This, as you can well understand, is still a few seconds too long, but when things get as murky as they were about to, even a dark grey cloud can seem like a silver lining.

My only other recollection of this chapter came from the creature's own mouth, if you could call it that, as he informed me in a dreadfully fake French accent that I was coming with him, and that he intended to hear 'no ifs, ands, or butts.' I suppose it helps that he does have a sense of humour, even in the face of such a crippling deformity as that, but I'm still inclined to say that I'd like him a great deal more if he weren't kidnapping me. If he was hoping to impress a friendship upon me with his wit and accents, he was heading for what I must assume would be part of a long line of disappointments.

What happened next, I cannot rightly describe. If I were to make an attempt at putting the sensation into words, I would most likely use metaphors that involved being pushed through a pool without getting wet, or having the world around you being peeled away, or some other equally silly phrase that no one would understand and everyone would think was just written to sound fancy. All I can say is that it was an odd feeling. No purple prose will come from old Bertram.

Next thing I knew, I found myself in the waiting room of an older gentleman. I couldn't say who he was or why he had a sudden interest in collecting Woosters, but I knew there was something in his head that I would not want making the transition into reality. Perhaps my being chained to his wall influenced my opinion, but I am inclined to think that I would dislike the expression he wore, even if I was free when he made it.

Now, as you can well imagine, if you begin a day in your room, waiting for your valet to bring you some b. and eggs, and by the afternoon you're chained to a wall, trying to figure out whether that guy that dragged you out of your home really did have an anus for a face, then you are going to have a lot of questions rolling around in your head by the evening. Most of these were never answered for me, but one was; viz. why I was brought to this man's house in the first place. He wanted my man.

My man, for those who do not know, is an exceptional chap by the name of Jeeves. To say he is brilliant would be like saying that Goliath was tall. If I were asked to rank the ten greatest minds of my generation, I would without hesitation put Jeeves at the highest place, even before stopping to ask why I was asked to partake in such an endeavour. I would not know how to gauge the other great minds, but I would never doubt Jeeves' entitlement to the top spot.

Which is why Jeeves' appearance at this man's mansion was the one thing that could pip me up in such a circumstance. If ever any human could extract one's chums from the murkiest of depths, it was Jeeves. I knew that his presence here meant that he was aware of my predicament. No doubt, at that very instant, the gears in his head were churning out a splendid plan to free me from this lunatic.

Now, whoever this kidnapper was, he didn't seem like he did his research. Imagine a schoolboy of ten who was to set out and write a report on the great Roman Empire. Now, we can say this kid would put on a good show. He'd describe in detail all about its politics and arts and so forth and, on the whole, make like he could have been present when Augustus himself became emperor. But then, when his schoolmaster questioned him on why he believed the empire fell, let's say the youth had responded by asking in surprise if it really did fall. Well, I think this fellow made the same mistake. He clearly knew something of my man and his reputation, if he'd go to the trouble of procuring him. Yet, in doing so, he overlooked one important detail: Jeeves would not let the young master stay in this dreadful state for long.

"Okay, now here's how things are going to go down," said the man. "But firstly, I'll need to give you a bit of a history lesson. The late 80s—this, of course, is a bit after your time, but bear with me—saw the release of a handy little invention known as the clapper. Now, admittedly, I'm no scientist, so I can't explain the specifics of how it works, but the effect is this. When someone claps, a light turns on. Are you following me so far?"

"Your explanation is proving clear for the time being, sir," responded Jeeves.

"Good. Now, I am not a lazy man. But I am a killer—and a professional one, at that—and, as you can imagine, I've got my fair share of ballsy punks coming for me. If a fight happens to break out in my home, I'd like to have a few surprises of my own. So then I thought, what if I could get someone to wire a shotgun to a clapper? All I'd have to do is clap, and whatever dumb fuck had wandered into my home would find about half his head decorating my wall. Now, obviously, the plan isn't perfect. He'd have to be standing in a certain place and so on. But it does have one use. You see, when a target can't move… but you're a smart man, and I bet you can see where this is going."

"Indeed, sir."

Now, I am not an intellect of Jeeves' magnitude. Indeed, a number of my closest and dearest would happily tell you what a fathead I can be at times. Nonetheless, I was not too thick to piece A and B together in this equation. I hoped that Jeeves had something in mind to save me, but his face was as unreadable as one of Rosie M. Banks' novels. What I mean is, I couldn't tell by a look whether he thought that by the end of the month I'd be in my bed, drinking a cup of coffee, or being buried in the ground. Normally, the lack of concern would seem a point for the bed and against the coffin, but how was I to know he hadn't been aware of the situation so long, the shock had left him? I didn't know how long I was out for. Maybe days or weeks. He could have given up faith in himself long ago.

Nonetheless, if there was one thing that kept the whole ordeal from driving me completely up the wall, it was my continued hope that Jeeves would come through. I mean, it would be a murkier life than most that involve being chained to a wall if the only thing I had to look forward to was more being chained to a wall, but when I had Jeeves' presence, I felt that I could concentrate fully on that one ray of light.

Not that it was always easy, mind you. Thought I've never doubted Jeeves' abilities, I've always remained sceptical of whether he could keep up his high success rate. Sooner or later, I reasoned, the bird is bound to fall, and he may fall in this fix as well as the next. And, as one might expect, I began to fear a fall more the longer I was stuck here. I do not know if I can impress upon you just how long I have been here, because very little happened during most of that time, which would make it impossible to get across in words unless I wished to repeat myself every paragraph. Perhaps one of those foreign art filmmakers could do it with enough long takes, but I doubt I could pull it off with a typewriter. My host did have frequent meetings with various lady friends, not to mention one man that I later learned to be his brother, but I could only describe one such meeting before they would start to grow wearisome. The gist of it, on all four occasions, had been that there was some woman named Buffy who he needed to have killed, and he would request that these other people do so. Fortunately for this Buffy girl, he had kept calling back some other killer to do the deed, so she had clearly been coming out of each ordeal as alive as ever.

Of course, I would be fibbing if I said that I'd expected such a bright future for myself. Now, as I was saying before becoming sidetracked by the Wooster Collector's Killer Collection, my faith in Jeeves had slowly dwindled throughout my stay at the kidnapper's home. I mean, I've always seen Jeeves as having a brain second only to God in terms of its size and ability, so I felt betrayed that he hadn't used this brobdingnagian intellect to save me from my sorrows immediately.

But I must now speed up several more weeks or months or however long I was in that balmy place. As I have already mentioned, this man had sent four assassins—one who shared his blood—after this Buffy, and none had managed to return. The man was clearly less than thrilled by this turnout, because he had eventually called Jeeves to have a meeting with him in the living room. That also happened to be the room that I was being used to decorate, and I do not think this was a coincidence; he undoubtedly wanted to keep both eyes on me in case he felt a fatal clap would be necessary to keep Jeeves in line.

"You disappoint me, Jeeves, you really do," said the man. "Here I was thinking you were an omniscient genius. Then you go and fuck up like that."

"If you could clarify the meaning of your lecture, sir, perhaps I could explain myself to your contentment," responded Jeeves, a picture of serenity.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about," said the man. "But I'll humor you. Shortly after Monsieur Cheeks drops this nitwit in my house, I try to make good on my end of the deal and send O-ren Ishii to Oz to kill Buffy."

That sentence, I realised, was a peculiarity, as there were few words—excluding proper nouns, of course—I did not understand, and the grammar seemed sound, and yet I felt nothing but confusion at trying to decipher its meaning.

"And you suspect I was responsible for Miss O-ren's failure to return?" said Jeeves.

"Well, I don't know," responded the man. "I mean, she went to Oz. I told her specifically where to go and what to do there. But, somehow, she never made it. Then, when the First shows up to chew me out for not living up to my part of the bargain, he tells me that she was found, mutilated, several miles outside the Emerald City."

"My intention had merely been to provide the young lady with the directions needed to reach the her destination in the least time possible," said Jeeves. "I realised only later that the map I had provided her with was drawn not by Mr. Baum, but a fan of his. However, as it was my understanding that Oz rendered its residence immortal, I suspect there was little long-term damage done."

"Oh, she was immortal," said the man. "But O-ren was an assassin. Getting mauled by a pack of Kalidahs rendered her, shall we say, physically incapable of performing her duties. Ever see what happens when someone is mauled by a tiger or a bear? Well, when you're mauled by something with parts of both, you're pretty much fucked for the long run. So I had her brought back to our world where, having lost most of her torso, she promptly died. Don't look at me like that. She practically begged me to kill her. She didn't want to live the rest of her life without any arms or legs, anyway. Still, I must congratulate you on having the balls to admit that you got her killed. I thought I'd have to beat it out of you."

I myself would have thought Jeeves would be a bit stingier with that sort of info. Especially since, given his intelligence, he should have known that no one would be dim enough to believe he gave that woman the wrong map by accident. Yet it looks like his unflappable attitude may not know when to let a little flap occur.

"Now, I'm a forgiving man," said the man. "So I figured, well, everyone makes mistakes. Even you might make a real dumb one once and a while. So I let it go and sent Vernita after the Slayer. I even send you with her to give her advice. And she ends up dead, too."

"At the time, sir, I genuinely believed that hiding in Birnam Wood would provide an effective means for her to travel inconspicuously to the battle. Once there, she would have easily been able to sneak up on and kill Miss Summers. I believed that Mrs. Green could easily disguise herself as a man, as such is common in Shakespeare's oeuvre, and, looking closely at works such as _Othello_ and _The Merchant of Venice_, I further surmised that a dark-skinned warrior would not raise eyebrows among the soldiers. The pyrokenetic soldiers, having been a more recent addition to the story, could not have been predicted."

"But you knew, somehow," said the man. "You knew those soldiers would be there, and you knew that, if Vernita hid in the forest, she'd die. I don't know how, but you did."

"Her death, I regret to say, may have been caused by my advice that she wait in the forest. My assumption had been that Ms. Summers would enter the woods to warn the Ents. Being unfamiliar with the psychology of the individuals, I had not considered that she may give any such attempt up as futile, or that Mrs. Green would remain in the forest to await Ms. Summer's arrival, even if it meant her own death."

"So, by this point, I'm pretty pissed off."

"Understandable, sir. I can see how your anger might be misplaced—"

"Reginald, if you don't can the pop psyche bullshit, I'm going to shove my sword so far up your inimitable ass, you'll have to cut a hole in your stomach to shit."

"Very good, sir."

"Then there was Budd."

"As you may recall, sir, my suggestion had been that Budd should travel to the 50s and await Miss Summers in that period. It was your suggestion that he disguise himself as a Libyan terrorist and attempt to kill Mr. McFly with the others' assistance."

"Because the last two times someone followed your advice, they got killed. And it never dawned on me that you'd use reverse psychology."

"I believe my advice had been perfectly sound, sir. Had you followed it, perhaps the Terminator would not have—"

But the kidnapper was in no mood to be chastised, and socked Jeeves one right across the mouth. Jeeves remained, to the untrained eye, unflapped. Nonetheless, I could tell from his face that he was steaming on the inside. He's too professional to flaunt his mood, of course, but to me, it's obvious. It's the same look I see whenever he and I are about to have a schism over my choice of wardrobe.

"Please forgive my lack of self-control," said the man. "But I tend to get emotional when I think of my brother. Now, where was I? Oh, yes. And that left Elle. So I didn't bother to tell you about her. And guess what? She does a lot better. She almost got to the Slayer and everything."

"Indeed, sir?"

"Indeed is right, you motherfucker. She got turned into a vampire in Buffy's hospital room, then killed when Tim Allen broke down his own wall and bathed her in sunlight. How did that happen?"

"I assure you, sir, I would not have called Mrs. Taylor to assure her of her husband's safety had I known Angelus would overhear the resulting conversation and intercept Ms. Driver. And as for the matter of the mower, I had merely attempted to supplement my income by selling a motor to Mr. Taylor. I had heard he favoured those with more power, if you would pardon the expression, and I happened to have one of that description."

In response to this skeleton from the closet, the man had sort of nodded to himself, then pulled a sword from behind his back and pointed it right at Jeeves' throat. I could feel myself cringing, even though I was nowhere near the blade, and knew my death would come from a gun. But Jeeves kept the stiff upper lip throughout the whole ordeal.

"I take it you are unhappy with my services, sir?"

"Oh, don't get me wrong. As a valet, you're top notch. But I don't like traitors."

"Understandable, sir. According to the poet Dante Alighieri…"

"Fuck the poet Dante Alighieri."

"Very good, sir."

"You realise that Mr. Wooser's gonna die now, right?"

"I suppose it is inevitable, given the unfortunate circumstances, sir."

That was most definitely not what a chap wants to hear in a situation like this. It seems the other chap didn't want to hear it, either, because at that sentence, the sword-wielding man took his gaze from Jeeves to look at that accursed shotgun he hung in the wall. Jeeves, with reflexes I hadn't expected from one with such a mighty intellect, had seen the window of opportunity and used it to step forward and jab the man five times in the chest, then back off. The whole thing seemed rather foolish, but the opponent simply put his sword back in its sheath and looked at Jeeves as if with a newfound respect.

"You know the Five Point Palm Exploding Heart Technique?"

"Yes, sir. I picked it up during a brief visit with a Mr. Pai Mei during the vacation you so graciously allotted me last week. He was initially reluctant to divulge the technique, but my intellect impressed him sufficiently to stir a change in opinions."

"I see," said the man. "Very clever. It looks like you've killed me, Jeeves."

"It would appear so, sir."

And that, as you'd expect, came as a shocker. Not that I couldn't see a certain logic in killing such a man, mind you, because I could see the necessity in this case. Nor had I ever doubted that Jeeves could do anything he wanted, given the resources; indeed, I have often though to myself that a man with a brain like that must have the whole world open to him. And yet assassins and murder entered my mind only while I was reading the works of Agatha Christie or someone like that, and I never thought to cast Jeeves in the role of a scoundrel in these stories. It was like hearing that James Joyce had decided to dedicate himself to revolutionising the erotic novella; although the deed was certainly within his physical and mental abilities, one would not expect to see an actual undertaking.

"You know," said the man, "I could clap my hands right now and kill Bertie."

The idea had dawned on me before then, but I was so in awe of Jeeves' vicious intellect, I doubted that theory had any merit to it.

"On the other hand," he continued, "you might have found a way to rewire it. Or maybe you blocked it. You might have even pointed it at me. Not that it matters. You've won. You killed me, so I'll let you have your master back."

"Much appreciated, sir."

Then the man simply got to his feet and walked towards the door. He got about five steps before falling over. It was like he was an actor in a play who had only remembered part-way through that his character's big death scene had happened earlier in the act, and he really shouldn't be walking around until the curtain drops. Nonetheless, his acting had improved significantly by then, because he looked as dead as any other dead man I had seen.

Jeeves helped me down from the wall.

"Jeeves?" I said.

"Yes, sir?"

"Do you have any idea what, exactly, has been going on here?"

"It's a bit complicated, sir, but the basic idea—"

"Never mind, Jeeves, you may scratch the inquiry from your memory. I don't wish to know what has happened here. I merely want to return to London. After this nightmare, even facing an army of Aunt Agathas would feel like a walk through Eden."

"Very good sir."

*

-

*

Jeeves and Bertie were created by P.G. Wodehouse.

Monsieur Cheeks and _Ultimate Muscle_ were translated by 4Kids Productions. Both originated from _Kinnikuman and Kinnikuman Nisei_, which were created by Yudetamago, serialised in _Shonen Jump_ and _Weekly Playboy_, respectively, and later animated by Toei Animations.


	27. VII i

_Captain's Log, Stardate 5940.6._

_A few days ago, we were contacted by the ambassador of Seven-11, a hitherto unknown planet, lost somewhere in the deep recesses of space. How he found us is a mystery, but their planet has expressed interest in joining the Federation. We have been charged with picking up the ambassador and bringing him back to Starfleet headquarters, where negotiations will continue._

*

Captain James T. Kirk sat in his seat aboard the USS Enterprise, watching the monitor closely.

"Uhura? Are you sure the communications are working?"

"I'm sure, Captain. I just checked them a few minutes ago."

Kirk turned back to the viewscreen anxiously.

"I still can't believe that we'll have a hand in the discovery of a new planet," said Chekov.

"Technically, it would be more correct to say that they discovered us," said Spock. "It was, after all, them who learned of _our_ existence and made first contact, albeit through unorthodox means."

"Unorthodox is right," said Dr. McCoy. "I still can't believe a people could be so advanced that they can get a bottle so close to a starship travelling at warp speed several light-years away, yet so behind that they actually have to."

"It does seem illogical," said Spock. "But, once we have met with Ambassador Mash Jordan, he will no doubt explain to us exactly why he chose such a communication method."

"I don't think it's really that much of a mystery," said Kirk. "Sending messages in a bottle was a popular tradition on Earth, especially during times of sea travel. They probably wanted to show us how well-versed they already are in our history." He glanced back at their screen. "Though I do wish they'd send us another communication of some sort."

The crew remained silent for several more seconds until Scotty's voice came out through the intercom.

"Captain? There seem to be trespassers onboard the ship."

Kirk turned his side of the intercom on. "Trespassers, Mr. Scott?"

"Aye, Captain. Seven of them."

"Seven." Kirk laughed to himself. "How fitting. Scotty? Those are probably the ambassadors. I'll be over there to meet with them briefly."

*

_Think you're really righteous? Think you're pure in heart?_

_Well, I know I'm a million times as humble as thou art_

--Weird Al Yankovic, "Amish Paradise" from _Bad Hair Day_.

Otherworldly Ambassadors

Okay, Xander told himself. Buffy's gone and done something stupid again. At least, this time, she had the foresight to mention she was dumping everything on Faith, so she clearly thought what she was doing through, and a stupid Buffy that thinks stuff through is better than a stake-wielding psycho-Buffy. Besides, Buffy could take care of herself, and whatever she was doing probably needed more stealth then their eight-person squad could pull off. She wasn't safe, but she wasn't in any more danger than she would have been with them, so he doesn't need to worry.

In this frame of mind, Xander decided he could have a proper nerdgasm in good conscience.

"Holy crap, this is the Starship Enterprise!"

He was still in his geek shock when the door opened, admitting Captain Kirk himself.

"Greetings. I am Captain James T. Kirk. I'm from the Federation."

"Nice to meet you, Captain," said Spike. "We're… by the way, don't you want to know why we're in your ship?"

"You're the ambassadors from Seven-11, aren't you?"

"No, we aren't," said Spike. "And doesn't that name sound kind of… um, suspiciously made-up to you?"

"Actually, it does," said Captain Kirk. "We considered the possibility that the people who sent us the message might have made up a fake name for some sinister purpose. But we still have to look into it. It would be a shame if this planet were barred from the Federation just because it happens to have a name that sounds funny in our language."

"Captain, please listen to what we have to say," said Giles. "We have reason to believe that these people, whoever they are, might be a very real threat."

So Giles tried, again, to explain everything that had happened to them during the course of this story. But he did have one comfort: this would probably be the last time he'd have to describe this Odyssey.

"I see," said Captain Kirk. "Well, we will certainly give everything you told us serious consideration. Spock? Bones? May I speak with you in my office?"

With a "Yes, Captain," each, the two officers followed Kirk out of the room, no doubt to discuss Giles' obvious insanity. Two Red Shirt Ensigns showed up conspicuously outside the door.

"Glad to know someone's here to make us feel welcome," said Spike. "Which one's the Bearer?"

"None of them," said Faith.

"None?" said Xander. "Are you sure?"

"Trust me," said Faith. "You can't miss something like that."

"Maybe you aren't trying hard…"

"It doesn't work like that. Trust me, we haven't met the Bearer yet."

"Well, the good news is that only Giles will be incarcerated for long, so you'll have plenty of time to wander the ship."

"I wouldn't have thought Captain Kirk would be the most skeptical person we'd meet here," said Giles.

"Science Fiction is not the same as Fantasy," said Xander. "Unless they can figure out a technobabble excuse for what you told them, they're not gonna to buy it."

"Then there's the fact that you told Kirk that you're going to kill one of his men," added Angel.

"Or women," added Xander. "Rodenberry was big on equality."

The door slid open again, admitting Kirk and his two officers.

"We discussed your story," said Kirk. "And we've decided that it would be best if you all remain in a holding cell for now."

"Hey, don't look at me!" said Spike. "He's the dangerous one!"

"You didn't contradict his story when he was telling it," said Kirk.

"No," said Spike, "but that's because I was scared that he'd become dangerous. You know the type. Watch too much TV, think the characters are real, then suddenly go on a killin' spree. I didn't want to do anything that might trigger that."

"I'm not arguing with your judgement," said Kirk. "But just to be safe, I'm going to have to put all of you in the brig. You did arrive with him, and that makes you all potential threats to my crew."

"But that's not fair!" said Spike. "What did we do to you?"

"You're trespassing on my ship!"

"I… well… technically…"

*

"Suitable, isn't it?" said Spike, leaning against the wall. "We were arrested in the first world we went to, and again in the last. It's like the last episode of _Seinfeld_. And I have a feeling we're gonna be here longer this time around."

Then there was an explosion. Two redshirt ensigns flew into the room, and a Predator followed them close behind.

"I think that at least one of these universes has a God that hates us," said Xander.

The Predator rammed its Combi Stick through the computer. There was a short circuit, and the field vanished. The Predator then leapt into the cell, landed on Faith and wrapped its hands around her neck. Spike and Illyria tried unsuccessfully to pull the alien off while the ship's alarms screamed for help.

Several more redshirts ran into the room and began unloading their Phasers on the beast. The Predator tossed Faith painfully into the wall, then threw a smartdisk that neatly removed a redshirt's head. The others were stunned only for a second, but this was enough for the creature to shoot most of them with its high-tech lasers. Illyria quickly grabbed the plasma caster mounted on its shoulder and spun it inward. The Predator took a full shot to the head, taking enough force to destroy both it's helmet and the plasma caster. The Predator's motionless body flew into the wall, landing only a few feet from Faith.

"It came straight for me!" said Faith. "Shouldn't it have gone for the Bearer? I mean, the First knows who that is, right?"

"I wouldn't look too deeply into it," said Xander. "The First Evil probably couldn't control the Predator directly, so it just dropped it here and hoped it would kill everyone."

"Yeah," said Angel. "Or it wanted to take us out of the way first."

"Or the First Evil is in this world attending to other business, and doesn't want everything to be destroyed until it can get safely to Oz."

Several more redshirts arrived in the room, followed by Kirk, Spock, and Scotty.

"What happened?" asked Kirk.

"The prisoners… were… attacked…" said the only surviving ensign.

Captain Kirk activated the intercom and called for Dr. McCoy. Scotty stepped into the cell and looked over the Predator's face in awe.

"What is it, Scotty? Do you recognise the species?"

"No, Captain. It's just that this is one ugly…"

With a growl, The Predator's mouth snapped open and it grabbed Scotty around the throat. It got back on its feet, tossed Scotty aside, and leapt on top of Faith. Twin blades popped from its wrists, and it tried to skewer Faith's face. She was able to jerk her head to the side, and Illyria was distracting the Predator by trying to pull it off, but Faith still lost half an ear.

She screamed, then pressed both her feet into the Predator's chest and, with the combined might of her own thrust and Illyria's pull, was able to knock it off. She raised herself to her feet, covering her ear and glaring at her opponent.

"Take me to the Transporter Room," she said.

"What do you say, Captain?" asked Scotty.

"If the lady has a plan, I say help her with it!" said Captain Kirk.

So Scotty ran through the doors and corridors of the Enterprise, followed behind by Faith.

"Is it following us?" he shouted.

"Probably," said Faith. "Of course, it can cloak itself, so even if I can't see it…"

"Cloak itself? Aye. That thing has some mighty potent technology on itself. Tell me—are these things common on your planet?"

"Not really. More well-known than common."

They made it into the Transporter room without getting killed. Faith immediately ran into the Transporter itself, and stood for only a few seconds before she could feel the Predator's hand around her throat. The creature turned opaque, and Faith grabbed its wrists and struggled.

"Quick!" she said, choking. "Beam us out into space."

"What, both of yeh?"

"Yes!"

"Never!" said Scotty. "You'd suffocate."

"Already happening," responded Faith. "But if you push that button, at least this thing will, too."

"But there has got to be an easier way."

"Well, we don't have time to think of it." Faith could feel the bones in her neck starting to break. "Just push the button now!"

Sweating, Scotty looked at the terminal and pushed the button. Then Faith knew she'd have to act fast. With all her strength, she rammed her middle and index finger hard into the Predator's eyes. It flinched, giving her time to escape both the beast and the machine. She turned around just in time to see the Predator disappear.

"Lass, I admire your courage, but that was awful foolhardy of yeh."

"But it worked," said Faith.

"Well, yes," said Scotty, then he laughed. "I guess it did. Yeh could make a grand member of Starfleet if yeh ever get out of prison."

"Prison!?"

*

"You mean you're still keeping us in the holding cell?" said Xander. "I thought we bonded!"

"Whether you and Mr. Scott bonded it immaterial," responded Kirk.

"Come on, be reasonable," said Xander. "All we want to do is talk to your crew. Surely you can't deny our right to free speech."

"You're right. Your right to free speech is infallible. But my duty to protect my ship is as well. You can say whatever you like, and I wouldn't try to stop you. But you'll have to say it from the holding cell. Good day."

Captain Kirk spun around and marched out of the room.

"Well," said Willow, "the good news is that he _is_ Captain Kirk. He can usually take care of things himself. Maybe he won't need us."

"But Kirk isn't the Bearer," said Xander. "For all we know, some random redshirt is."

Faith tried unsuccessfully to pass her hand through the forcefield. "Well, this is discouraging."

There was nothing to be done about it for now. That's not to say no one was trying, but there just didn't seem to be any answer. Hours passed before they heard Captain Kirk's voice again.

"This way, Mr. Jordan."

Soon, Captain Kirk led 'Mash Jordan' into the room. He was an abnormally short man, pale and round-faced with a thin moustache. An equally pale woman, much taller and with a triangular chin, followed close behind.

"Oh, for the love of God," said Spike. "Not you two."

"Do I know you?" said the ambassador innocently.

"No," said Spike. "I'm just a fan. Loved you in 'Bullwinkle's Corner.'"

"You must have me confused with someone else," said Boris Badenov. "I am not a TV star. I am Ambassador Mash Jordan from the planet Seven-11, and this is my assistant, Barbellella."

"Hello, dollink."

"I swear, we've seen this stuff so many times, it's really just _annoying_ now," said Spike. "Let me guess. You're going to claim that we need to be killed or captured or something for some reason, right?"

"We just need the girl," said Boris, pointing to Faith. "That why we contact Enterprise."

"You said you wanted to join the Federation," said Kirk.

"And I do. But I never said that was reason for contacting you."

"Come on, let us out," said Faith. "You're a smart man. Surely _you_ can see that this guy is lying!"

"Maybe he's a bit eccentric," said Kirk. "But _you've_ already admitted that you're planning to kill one of my crew. I have every reason to believe you might be a criminal on his planet."

"See?" said Boris. "You can't doubt a face like this."

"And yet I am not a judge," said Captain Kirk, turning back to Boris. "I am not qualified to say whether they are guilty or not. If you're going to join the Federation, you'll have to learn to live by our laws, and that includes giving your criminals the right to a fair trial."

"Oh well, I guess Federation will learn to do without me. Hand over criminal now and I be on my way."

"I don't think so. This is my ship. She's my prisoner, and it is my duty as a Starfleet captain to see that they all get a fair trial."

"If you want to be spoil sport, fine," said Boris. "Now we continue tour. You and Ms. Barbellella can go ahead. I need to catch my breath"

"Okay. But if anything happens to these prisoners while I'm gone, you will be held responsible. Please follow me, Ms. Barbellella."

Captain Kirk led Natasha and several other Enterprise crewmen from the room while Boris stood behind, looking evil.

"Now that we are alone, it is time to get to work," he said.

Spike began to crack his knuckles while Faith smiled at Boris' apparent stupidity.

"What are you so happy about?" he said. "You don't think I am going into holding cell, do you? Please. I didn't get diploma from MIT by being dumb."

"MIT?" said Giles.

"Of course. Massachusetts Institute of Treachery."

The short man reached into his pocket and produced a large, cartoon bomb with an obscenely long fuse, then placed it in front of the cell.

"This bomb will go off at thirty seconds after five. In other words—" He glanced at his watch. "—in two minutes."

"But you can't!" shouted Faith melodramatically and, she hoped, convincingly.

"But I can," responded Boris. "And I can do this." He placed a second bomb next to the nearby computer terminal.

Faith felt her drama become less 'melo.' "What's that?"

"This bomb will go off twenty-eight seconds after five. We wouldn't want cell's forcefield protecting you from other explosion, would we?"

With a laugh, Boris disappeared into the Starship Enterprise's hallway.

"Does anyone else miss Team Rocket?" said Xander.

*

Be sure to read the next chapter for...

Bomb and Bomber

or

_I've Got My Mine Set on You_

*

-

*

_Star Trek_ was created by Gene Roddenberry, and is owned by Paramount Television.

_Predator_ is owned by Twentieth Century Fox.

Boris Badenov, Natasha Fatale, and _The Rocky and Bullwinkle Show_ were created by Jay Ward and are owned by Bullwinkle Studios and Jay Ward Productions.


	28. VII ii

The Messiah

"Okay, so here's the situation," said Willow. "Boris said that the first bomb will destroy the terminal two seconds before the second bomb kills us. That gives us two seconds to escape."

"We'll never make it," said Faith. "Not with all seven of us running at once. Have any magic that could help?"

"No, but I do have a suggestion. Look at those two bombs. Pretty much identical, so they're probably the same."

"That seems like a dangerous assumption," said Giles.

"Have any better ideas?"

"No," he admitted. "Okay, go on."

"Thank you. Now, as I was saying, the first bomb's explosion can't be big enough to destroy the second bomb, or else this death trap wouldn't work. Assuming both bombs have the same radius, if Illyria were to kick the second one all the way to the other side of the room, we would be safe."

Illyria turned to focus on the bomb. Slowly, the seconds ticked away.

Sixty.

…

Forty.

…

Twenty.

…

Ten.

Nine.

Eight.

Seven.

Six.

Five.

Four.

Three.

The first bomb exploded, shattering the terminal. The shield flickered for one agonising second before it dropped. The other bomb had not yet exploded, but the fuse was almost gone.

Illyria kicked that bomb, and it exploded into flames as it hurtled across the room. Angel took a large piece of shrapnel in the chest, but everyone was otherwise unhurt.

The explosion also brought Kirk and Spock into the room.

"What's going on in here?" asked Kirk.

"Not much," said Spike. "We got bored, decided to play some football. Oh, and Ambassador Jordan tried to kill us."

Kirk looked over the room's smoke and wreckage. "A bomb."

Boris had chosen that moment to wander back into the room. He stopped cold and goggled at the remnant of the holding cell and its still living occupants.

"How are you still alive!? I mean… heh heh, from a purely theological perspective, of course."

"Are you responsible for this?" asked Captain Kirk.

"Of course not," said Boris. "Why would I try to kill my own prisoners?"

"Mr. Jordan, I warned you of what would happen if you were to do anything to these people."

"But you have no proof I did, captain. And you said yourself that you cannot do anything without proof."

"No, I didn't. I said I can't convict people without proof. However, I can and will keep you in holding. Take him to the other cell," he added to some of his men. "Kirk then noticed Angel, sitting in the corner with a piece of shrapnel sticking through his chest. "Quick! Someone take this man to sickbay!"

*

Less than ten minutes later, Doctor McCoy entered the briefing room.

"Ah, McCoy," said Kirk. "How's the patient doing?"

McCoy paused while he searched for the right words. "He's dead."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"You needn't be. He's perfectly fine."

"Doctor, since when does your definition of 'perfectly fine' include being dead?"

"Since the guy in my office was able to walk around and talk, even though all my readings indicate he's not only dead, but has been for a while. Everything—his hearts, his lungs—haven't worked for years."

"Do you have any theories on how this is possible?"

"Nearest I can figure, his body is being controlled by some other force. Possibly a parasite of some kind."

"Is the patient aware that he is dead?" asked Spock.

"Apparently so. When I told him, he claimed to be a vampire."

"Have you considered the possibility that he is telling the truth?"

"Spock, you pointy-eared hypocrite. Does that sound like the logical answer to you?"

"I am not using this as an answer—merely an hypothesis. Our captives do claim that they are from another dimension. We know, from experience, that alternate worlds do exist, and it is not illogical to assume that some of those worlds may contain physics that differ from our own. Ambassador Jordan's unique appearance and bizarre movements would also support this hypothesis."

"Jordan never claimed to be from another dimension," responded McCoy.

"And yet he is obviously hiding something."

"Are you saying, Spock, that their story might be true?" demanded McCoy. "Then what? Should we listen to them and sacrifice one of our crew to this… this Volcano God!?"

"I do not presume to imply that being from another world makes their story true or false. Simply that Angel may, in fact, be undead. However, in the event that the rest of their story proves true, I should note that the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few or the one."

"Ha! Good luck convincing Jim to sacrifice any of his crew to a cause like that! Even if they do believe everything they say."

"I am not arguing with you, doctor," said Spock. "Personally, I consider it illogical that any one man's or woman's death could affect the entire universe on such a literal level. However, I would advise that we at least listen to what they have to say, if only to learn more about this First Evil that they are so afraid of."

Spock was one of Captain Kirk's best friends, and a man he would trust his life to. However, he never thought he'd be expected to offer another's for the man. Even so, he decided that the least he could do was talk to the prisoners. If nothing else, it would give him a chance to warn the appropriate crewmember.

He decided to have Faith brought to his quarters so that he could discuss the matter with her in private.

*

Okay, thought Faith. So flirting with Captain Kirk is the type of fantasy that's only really popular with girls who write about Legolas' erotic adventures with Anakin. The world was at stake here, so she'd need to swallow her pride (and anything else the situation required) and do whatever it took to get a tour of the ship.

Faith was escorted into his quarters. Kirk turned to meet her.

"Hello, Faith. Why don't you have a seat?"

Faith sat on Kirk's bed and swung herself into a reclining position, trying to look as seductive as possible. Kirk tried to ignore her. Tried too hard.

"I have been thinking your problem over, and I am willing to admit that you may not be a danger to my ship.'

"Terrific," said Faith, straightening herself into a more dignified position. "So I can look over your crew?"

"I didn't say that," responded Kirk, and Faith returned to her seductive recline. "My crew is made of good men and women, but some are young and impressionable. And, I won't deny that some of the men may be easily moved by your… charms."

"Really?" said Faith, crossing her right leg over her left. "You think I'm charming?"

"Well, yes, but you seem to be missing my point," said Captain Kirk. "I'm worried that, if I let you speak to them, you would talk my crew into doing something foolish. Not that I blame you, necessarily. I know that you probably believe what you're saying, but didn't you ever stop to think that you might have been lied too?"

"Trust me," said Faith, touching Captain Kirk's right cheek seductively. "I would know if I was being deceived. After what I've seen, that simply isn't possible anymore."

Captain Kirk pulled away from the affection. "Umm… as I was saying… I don't actually know for certain that you are being completely misled. My first officer seems to think that we should look into it."

"Really?" said Faith, then leaned in and kissed Captain Kirk on the mouth. As she massaged his tongue with her own, she began to wonder if, maybe, all those people that called her a 'slut' over the years had been justified. Oh well, she thought, at least now she was being a heroic slut, or Sexually Liberated Woman, which she decided was a better phrase. She pulled away from Kirk, looked deeply into his eyes, and said, "What do you think?"

"I think it's worth looking into," said Captain Kirk.

And Faith wanted to make sure he did look into it, which was why she did what she did. But she found herself developing an unexpected feeling while she did. Unexpected, yet familiar. It was an odd, warm sensation that she felt from within her gut. It was powerful, and impossible to ignore. Yet she tried very had to ignore it. It managed to delight and horrify her at the same time.

Faith pulled herself up and fled for the door, momentarily forgetting about Kirk.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"Nowhere," said Faith. "It's just that… something came up."

"I didn't hear anything."

"Yeah, well… you know." Faith slid out the door, making her way to the holding cells in nothing but a blanket.

Then she arrived. Her first words were, "Okay, lets go."

"What happened?" said Xander.

"I found the Bearer."

"Well, where?"

"Here." She patted her stomach.

No one knew exactly how to respond, so they fell back on looks of wide-eyed shock. One wouldn't expect that to help an awkward situation, but Faith, embarrassed as she had been before, felt a rejuvenation of her own self-worth when she saw their unnecessary, judgmental reactions. She certainly didn't owe _them_ any excuses!

"Hey!" she said. "The world was at stake, and I did who needed to be done."

"You slept with Captain Kirk?" said Xander in wide-eyed awe. "Wow. You are so lucky!"

"Can you be sure this early on?" asked Giles.

"Was he any good?" said Spike.

"Yeah," said Faith. To Giles, I mean. "I'm not getting cravings or anything like that, but… well, his troops and my bunkers got together, and I can definitely feel a life force. Not a great metaphor, but you know what I mean."

"So the Bearer is the unborn son of Faith and Captain Kirk?" said Xander. "I didn't know that would work. I mean, what are the chances?"

It was only at this moment that Square reappeared.

"Quick! We must—"

Then the shape fell silent and dead, a knife sticking out of his back.

"Finally, I managed to do something wrong," said Boris, and laughed as the guards caught up and grabbed him tightly. Captain Kirk appeared shortly after, and looked down in horror at Square's body.

"Now I have you," said Captain Kirk to Boris. "I saw you kill that life form. I'll see to it that you'll go to jail for this." Then he turned to Faith, and pointed his phaser at her. "And as for you, young lady. I don't know if you are really pregnant. But I do know that, if it turns out that you are, I'll see to it that your child is kept safe from you for the rest of your life."

*

Outside Silverlock Castle, a single Firefly-class ship landed.

Faith stepped out of the ship. Mr. Peabody was already there to meet her.

"Ah, Faith. I'm glad that Mal was able to find you. It must have been unpleasant for you all to be stuck in that world for so long."

"In prison," said Faith. "Must have been a year. Lot nicer than the prison I used to be in, though."

"That's the spirit. Of course, it does take a long time to track down someone in a galaxy that big. But we have more important concerns right now."

"I know," said Faith. "Found out who the Bearer is. Turns out she's my daughter. Unfortunately, we lost her again. Seems the Federation wouldn't let a prisoner keep the daughter she quote planned to murder unquote. Better tell Mal to fire up this ship again, because we've got a big fandom to search."

"No need. I know exactly where the child is."

"You do? How? Where?"

"The Federation would have tried to find a parent for that girl. And, I can assure you, the First Evil would see to it that said parent would be one of its own minions."

"What?" said Faith. "My daughter…"

"Your daughter is fine," said Mr. Peabody. "So far. Since she hasn't been killed yet, I suspect that she has been taken to the First Evil's headquarters. We can only hope that Buffy will get there in time to rescue her."

Faith tried to picture her daughter, tiny and helpless. "Why can't we go?"

"You're more than welcome to, but Buffy and the First Evil both have a considerable head start on you. If the young Ms. Summers can't do anything, I'm afraid your daughter will be dead before you can arrive."

"But what if you're wrong?" said Faith. "How can you possibly be so sure about all of this?"

But she knew that **he** wasn't wrong.

*

-

*

_Firefly_ was created by Joss Whedon and is owned by Mutant Enemy.


	29. Endgame 1

The area looked like it had recently been witness to an eruption. There was no grass or trees, and the ground was dark and murky, somewhat like a cross between soil and charcoal. Overhead, a red sky stretched around the horizon like a hat, making the very landscape look angry. Buffy rolled down the window and stuck her head into a dense wall of humidity. The sky could have been made of lava.

"Nice scene," muttered Meowth. "I should take a picture, den sell post cards."

"The caption could read, 'Wish you were here,'" said Jessie. "'Instead of me.'"

Buffy kicked the door open, then stepped out of the DeLorean.

With the comfort of the air conditioning left inside, the warm air almost suffocated her. She removed her leather jacket and threw it into the back seat. The heat still seemed to push in on her from all directions. She could feel a headache forming above her eye. "There's a town in the distance. We'd better go there first."

"Are you crazy?" shouted Meowth. "Dis is da Capitol of Evil Land we're in! Da last place we wanna go is da place wit other people in it!"

"We didn't come here to suntan," said Buffy. "We need to kill the First Evil, and the people in town are the only source of information we have, even if it will have to be beating-induced. Now, if you aren't going to help me, you can leave."

Meowth hung his head. "Great. Now I gotta wander around wit two crazy women."

"Two!?" shouted Jessie, while Buffy ignored Meowth and climbed into the DeLorean's drivers seat.

"Either you can get in the car or you can stay here," said Buffy coldly.

Team Rocket glanced nervously at the pterodactyl circling them and squawking. They decided it would be better to get in the car.

Fortunately, the car was fast, so the dinosaurs were little more than very terrifying nuisances on the short trip to the collection of buildings that would, using a vague definition, constitute a town. However, there was no municipality to speak of. The buildings were decrepit and uninhabitable. The only ones that even had doors seemed to sacrifice the corresponding wall's structural stability for the luxury.

"Who would wanna live in a dump like dis?" said Meowth.

"No one," said Buffy. "So the First must be hiding something here. If there was only one building, it knows we'd go inside it to look around. Instead, it put up a lot of red herrings."

"Are you saying we have to look through all these buildings!?" said Jessie.

"No, of course not. We only have to look until we find the building with something in it. No, on second thought, there's no telling how much stuff it could be hiding here. Yeah, we should probably look through all of them, just to be safe."

I do not think you want to hear of their search in detail, and I see no reason to describe it in detail. I will say only that it was hours before they finally found anything important.

In a small shack, squeezed between two skyscrapers, there was a smaller room, and the far corner of that room held a pair of cells. One contained a mysterious gentleman in a familiar white cloak with a top hat. His face was obstructed by shadow, but Buffy knew from his cloak that he was the real Count Bleck. The other cell contained three children: a boy with glasses, a slightly older girl with a ragged ribbon in her hair, and an infant.

And on the desk lay a giant wasp.

Buffy produced a knife and moved in on the bug slowly, raising her weapon and readying herself for the kill, until she heard the wasp's cartoony snore.

"Awww," she said. "It's asleep."

Buffy moved the creature's quilt further up its body and tried to make her way to the cell. She made it only partway before the wasp stirred and awoke.

"Hmhuh?" groaned the wasp. "What? Ohhh. Fleshy Bot here."

"What did you call me?" said Buffy.

"That seems to be his name for everyone," said the bespectacled boy.

"Waspinator afraid that big Fleshy Bot no rescue smaller Fleshy Bot," said Waspinator. "Waspinator here to stop her."

"Well, sorry to disappoint Waspinator," said Buffy, "but Fleshy Bot has lots of experience killing scarier monsters than you… I mean, than Waspinator."

Waspinator hung its head. "Just Waspinator's luck. Waspinator always getting slagged. Wapinator probably get slagged again."

"Whoa, calm down!" said Buffy, surprised at the wasp's low self-image. "It's not like you're the lamest monster I've ever fought."

"Ahh, Fleshy Bot just saying that."

"No, it's true. When you think about it, giant wasps could have killed a lot of Slayers before me."

"Really? Well, then, maybe Waspinator should try to slag Fleshy Bot. Waspinator, Terrorize!"

Waspinator did what could only be described as a backflip. During the second it took to complete, his body opened up, revealing a second, robotic form. Waspinator was now a hovering humanoid, mostly green, but with yellow, black-striped legs and a similarly coloured metasoma. He held a medium-small gun in his right hand.

"You just _had_ to encourage the bad guy, didn't you!?" shouted Jessie.

Waspinator pointed his gun at Buffy. She surveyed the room, looking for anything she could use to her advantage. There were countless heavy objects—chairs and tables and so on—in the room, but they were feet away. Waspinator had his gun right now.

"Waspinator like this," said Waspinator. "It looks like Waspinator going to win for once."

"The fight isn't over yet," said Buffy.

"Really? Waspinator think it is. Waspinator have a gun. Fleshy Bot not have gun. Seems pretty clear-cut to Waspinator."

"Don't miscount yer chickens before dey're hatched," said Meowth. "Buff ain't alone."

"And what is Cat Bot and Fleshy Bot going to do?" said Waspinator.

"Dis!" shouted Meowth, as he produced a large remote with a single red button. He pressed it. What sounded vaguely like the electronic morphing of a Transformer rang from outside. Soon, the DeLorean—in Giant Robot form—broke into the room. Meowth and Jessie both climbed inside.

"There are Autobots here!?" said Waspinator.

The DeLorean pointed its arms at the giant wasp. Waspinator screamed, covered his eyes, and began to fire energy bullets all across the robot's body, but most of them dissolved harmlessly against the metallic frame.

"Ha!" shouted Meowth. "Dat ain't gonna work. Da Doc and I reinforced dis baby wit da hardest metal known to man or bug."

Waspinator screamed and began to shoot more quickly. Sparks shot over the mecha for a second, then the whole thing went up in a massive blast, throwing the wreckage and the Rockets into the sky.

*

"I can't believe you had the gas tank put on the outside of the robot!" shouted Jessie.

"Ha," said Meowth bitterly. "It's so easy to criticise, ain't it?"

*

Waspinator, pleased with his handiwork, turned back to face the Slayer. But she was quick, and yanked the weapon out of his hand before he knew she had moved at all.

She pointed it at him. "Now, give Fleshy Bot the key."

"Whoa," said Waspinator, holding his hands up. "Fleshy-Bot no want to hurt…"

The end of that sentence consisted of a pair of laser beams, shot from his eyes. His aim was bad, but Buffy was startled enough to leap aside, forgetting to hold onto her gun while doing so. Realising her mistake, she turned back to the weapon, which had gone off the second it had hit the ground. A single shot flew from the weapon and hit Waspinator right in the chest. The robot let out a grunt as he lunged backwards, crashing into the wall and falling weakly to the ground. He started to push himself back to his feet, but Buffy interrupted the attempt by bringing a chair down on his head. She continued to smash him to bits, but he continued to let out a cartoony shriek with each hit. Buffy's arms finally grew tired, and she tossed the chair aside. Waspinator had been reduced to a pile of scraps and bolts, with only his head and a hand still recognisable.

"Ow," groaned Waspinator's head. "Waspinator think he actually prefer getting blown up."

"Wow," said Buffy. "Being you does suck." She kicked Waspinator's head gently. "You're not going to get back up, are you?"

"Does Waspinator look like he's going to get back up!?" responded Waspinator.

"Good." She turned to the cell, just as Jessie and Meowth and the remains of their time machine fell in a heap a few feet away from the kids. "Okay. Does anyone know where the key is?"

The boy shook his head. "I'm afraid I don't."

"If I knew," the girl said, "I would have invented something to get it into our cell."

"The key is gone," said Count Bleck.

"Pardon me?" said Buffy.

"Count Bleck said the key is gone," responded Count Bleck. "After the First Evil heard of Count Olaf's death, it had it destroyed. These three children were to be Olaf's prize for his work. But what use is a reward that no one alive wants?"

"How do you know?" said Buffy.

"Because I used to work for the First Evil."

"Oh, right. How'd you find out about its real plans, anyway?"

"To destroy the world?" said Count Bleck. "No—Count Bleck knew about that long ago, and was all for it. To me, the world held naught but sorrow. And, as I watched your own lives, and those of Angel's, I thought this to be true. But then, as you and the others fought, I began to watch Illyria more closely. I saw that she had found love with Xander. At first, I was not swayed. I had been down this path before. But then, when they began to grow closer together, I remembered my own days of young love, and I realised that, perhaps, the world did deserve to exist after all. That night, I attempted to free the Pixls. But the First Evil caught me in the act, and chose to imprison me here rather than order my death. I guess it knew that, to me, death would be merely an escape. But, as long as the Illyrias and Xanders of the world may be happy, I am willing to live and to fight for them."

Fortunately, Buffy didn't have to answer that. "Pixels?" the boy said, from the adjoining cell. "You mean as in the types of data used in the formation of electric images?"

"No, my friend," said Count Bleck. "Pixl is our word for the creatures, though I suppose that you may have different words for them in your own world. But the First Evil has been using their power to get everything its dark heart desired, when it desired them."

"Is that how he… it… whatever started travelling to other worlds?" asked Jessie.

"For that, Count Bleck must take some blame," responded Count Bleck. "Dimentio, one of my subordinates, had tried to help me with my plan to destroy the world by travelling to other dimensions, looking for things that might help. While in your world, he found the First Evil. We brought it with us, intending to recruit it as an intern into our group. But that proved to be our great mistake. It raised a bigger army than I, and soon took over. Yet, as long as I supported its scheme, I helped. The First Evil needed us because it could not travel from one world to another. Dimentio helped with that at first, or so I thought. But it seems he had more foresight, for he had began to seek out the means to destroy the First long before I. Eventually, he found the Pixls I mentioned before. They had great power, but they told us they would only use it for the benefit of a human child. Alas, the First Evil soon learned of these creatures and figured out how to use this power. And, once it learned it could use them to travel from world to world, it killed Dimentio. Fortunately, well before his death, Dimentio granted a portion of his powers to another… the one you call Square. That was how _he_ first traversed the fourth and fifth dimensions, and how he found you. I suppose that Dimentio knew that Square would build up a resistance without the First noticing. And he may have saved us all with his foresight."

"I'll make sure he has," said Buffy. "Mr. Bleck, do you know if there's anything else hidden in this town?"

"I cannot think of anything that would be worth hiding. I can say, however, that time is fleeting, and should not be put into more searching."

"Then I'm going now. You kids stay here."

Buffy turned and began to walk off, ignoring the prisoners' cries of protest.

"Sorry," she said, "but I can't get you out of those cells, and I can't waste any more time while the First Evil is out there, coming closer and closer to triggering a Mass Apocalypse." She began to slow her pace, then stopped entirely and focused her gaze on the floor. "Besides, you'll be safer here. I don't know what I'm going to do, but I don't expect to come back from it. And I don't want to get any more people killed."

Meowth began to mumble something inaudible, and she turned around to find him picking the lock with his claw. Her first instinct was to intercept the attempt, but her conscience held her long enough for the cage to swing open.

"You're lucky we still need someone to fight for us!" shouted Jessie.

"You shouldn't blame yourself for whatever happened," the boy said. "It's not like you meant to get them killed."

"Besides," the older girl said, "we've done some things that we're not proud of."

"Yeah, I know, we've all done bad things," said Buffy. "But this isn't some _Full House_ Very Special Message type of bad we're talking about. People _died_. Because of _me_."

"Do ya wanna talk about what happened?" asked Meowth, sympathetically.

"No," responded Buffy, turning and walking.

"We can take care of ourselves, you know," the older girl said indignantly. "I think that you'd find it hard to kill us, even if you tried."

"Who exactly are you, anyway?" said Buffy. "What world are you from?"

"What world?" the boy said. "Are you saying you believe Count Bleck's talk about other worlds and pixies?"

"Uh-huh," said Buffy. "You're even less qualified to help than I thought."

"I have read several books on physics," the boy said, "and none of them presented a rational reason to believe in other worlds. And I don't believe that thing was a robot, either. He was probably one of Count Olaf's henchmen in a costume. I'll bet he was the Hook-Handed Man."

"It couldn't be him, Klaus," the girl said. "Maybe it was the bald man with the long nose."

"But it couldn't be him, either, Violet. He's dead."

"Barbin!" the infant shouted.

"No, Sunny," Klaus said. "The one who looks like neither a man nor a woman was too big."

"You're way off," said Buffy. "First of all, Count Olaf was only a pawn. And second of all, I've seen enough monsters in my lifetime to know that they are not all guys in masks trying to scare pesky kids out of houses. Unless you can explain why the pirate or the hermaphrodite or whoever can still talk without a torso."

"Waspinator can still feel his legs," said Waspinator. "That can't be good sign."

"That _is_ odd," Klaus said. "Okay, I am willing to concede that there _might_ be a supernatural force involved. But I must ask, why did you say that Count Olaf _was_ only a pawn? That use of the past tense concerns me. I hope he hasn't convinced you that he's turned good. Because, if he has, it's only an excuse--"

"No, Olaf's dead," said Buffy.

"Dead?" And, considering what Count Olaf had no doubt put them through, the kids seemed disturbingly remorseful.

"But how can you be sure he didn't fake his death?" Violet said.

"I saw Spike snap his neck myself."

"Spike dangerous?" Sunny asked.

"No, he's on our side," said Buffy.

"Well, we're on your side, too," Klaus said, "and, even though we aren't going to kill anyone, we can still be of help. Violet, for example, is very good at inventing things."

"And Klaus is very well-read," Violet said. "He has a mind like an encyclopaedia."

"Incisors," Sunny said.

"And Sunny's sharp teeth have saved us countless times," Violet said. "And she's becoming a very talented cook."

This last temptation was too much. Team Rocket grabbed Buffy and began to plead vocally that she should let Sunny join them, and that it had been so long since they ate anything that had been cooked.

"Besides," Klaus said, "we won't be safe anywhere in this country. But with you around, at least we'd have someone to defend us."

"Good point," said Buffy reluctantly. Bringing children on this death trip still felt wrong, but she couldn't rationalise leaving them alone, either. So she agreed, and began to lead them to the First Evil's headquarters. Then stopped to admit out loud that she had no idea where they were supposed to go.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk," said Count Bleck. "Any proper hero from my world wouldn't take one step on an adventure without finding a hint of where to go."

"Really not in the mood," said Buffy. "Either do something to help, or shut up."

"There is no need to display such a temper," said Count Bleck. "It just so happens that Count Bleck is prepared to help."

A shadowy hand reached out, and a slowly rotating paper map hovered above it. Buffy examined the map. The dessert, apparently, had only been a small part of the area; the entire land, with mountains and caves and forests and everything, stretched out in all directions. There were no other cities, but a single, vaguely skull-shaped fortress sat in the eastern part of the map.

"Your goal is the Dark Tower on the far right," he said.

"Thanks," said Buffy. "I'm glad you're on our side."

"As you should be," said Count Bleck. "I cannot help the intangibility of the First Evil, but I shall do what I can to protect you until then."

"Being protected by someone else?" She laughed to herself. "That'll be a nice change." She glanced back at the map. "I'm not going to have to collect seven crystals or something to get into the castle, am I?"

"No," said Count Bleck. "The First Evil has no need to keep anyone out of its castle. It is invincible and, as far as it knows, only it can control the Pixls. The journey will, of course, be perilous, but it will be over within a day."

"Den what?" asked Meowth. "Lady Vengeance here still ain't came up wit a plan for takin' down Da First."

"To win, we must take the Pixls. Of course, that won't be easy."

"But you said Da First won't be guarding da joint," said Meowth.

"I said it won't be trying to keep people out of its castle," said Count Bleck. "It will have some servants inside. And this world is a dangerous place. There will be a lot of monsters on the way over."

If you've ever read _The Hobbit_ by JRR Tolkien, you will probably remember near the ending when (and I hope I do not spoil anything here) Bilbo must return from his adventure the same way he came. Of course, once the story is done, neither the reader nor author wishes for a hundred-page conclusion, so it became necessary to shorten his return journey or, at the least, shorten the necessary description. In this case, Professor Tolkien simply cut out all foreseeable conflict by explaining that Bilbo's travelling companions were so strong, none of the sorts of threats found in the rising action would threaten him now.

Well, hopefully this will explain why I will have so little to say about this leg of the journey. Count Bleck, whether he looked it or not, was an incredibly powerful magician, and he made quick work of the various dinosaurs, demons, and robots that attacked our heroes on their journey through the harsh terrain. By the time they reached the ominous Dark Tower, most of the party were feeling quite confident.

Even so, it was hard not to feel a sense of foreboding as they neared the Dark Tower. In fact, Tower was almost a misnomer. It was actually more a well-crafted cave—even a mountain. The bottom had a mouth-shaped entrance with a large stone door, though Buffy doubted it would be an obstacle to Count Bleck. Above that, a gigantic stone structure stretched and twisted into the sky.

At this point, some of the sweetest music any of them had ever heard emerged from the inside of the Dark Tower. Its beauty was amplified by the very obvious ugliness of everything surrounding it, yet somehow the contrast heightened the horror rather than the pleasure.

And the music was growing louder.

But, when something finally emerged from the tunnel, all Buffy saw was a parade. Several people, ranging from a pretty boy to a malformed net-and-blade-wielding creature in weeds, all marched out of the cave. Yet they weren't attacking. At first, they didn't seem to be doing anything at all. They continued to parade around as if part of some horrible fantasy Mardi Gras.

"What da hey is dis?" asked Meowth.

Klaus was staring into the crowd, apparently finding everything very familiar. Soon, he began to mumble words to himself. "Fancy. Desyre. Doubt. It can't be."

"Can't be what?" Violet said.

"It's nothing," said Klaus. "This just reminds me of Book III, Canto XII of Edmund Spenser's _The Faerie Queene_."

"In what way?" said Buffy.

"Well, near the end of the book, there is a parade of allegorical figures, led by Cupid."

"Is it dangerous?" asked Buffy.

"This is not really same parade from the poem," Klaus said. "That is…"

But he cut himself off as he turned, pale-faced, towards the cave entrance. The parade's tail was now appearing, taking the form of two monsters dragging William Shatner—or, perhaps, Captain Kirk—between them. He was still alive, though that seemed crueller than death. There was a giant gaping wound, dripping with blood, in the middle of his naked chest. The horror of the scene was not lessened by the almost Pythonesque appearance of Cupid, riding a lion, as he appeared from the mouth of the cave, apparently to watch Kirk's torture.

"This is wrong," mumbled Klaus. "It's like the poem, but that isn't Amoret. Why would Cupid torture _him_?"

Buffy ran to Captain Kirk, but the lion leapt and blocked her. She could probably have killed it, and she might even have been able to kill Cupid. But before she could move toward either goal, one of the two monsters holding Captain Kirk reached through the wound in his chest and removed his still beating heart. The horror froze Buffy. It was seconds later, after the procession had fully retreated into the cave, and after the door had began to close, and after Jessie had been forced to stick her own leg between the closing rocks to keep it open, when Buffy realised that Kirk had still been moving when he was led back into the cave. That was the worst part.

She turned to Klaus. "What's next?" she asked. The disgust in her voice seemed to spray on the young boy, but he took no notice.

"In the poem, this is when Britomart fought Busirane," Klaus said.

"This Busirane. What's he like? Weak? Slow? Killed in one page?"

"Well, Britomart defeated him 4 stanzas after he appeared."

"Sounds promising."

"But it was mostly symbolic, really," Klaus added. "Spencer used _The_ _Faerie Queene_ to champion the 12 virtues, as outlined by Aristotle, and Britomart's defeat over Busirane symbolised the victory of chastity over lust. You see, Busirane was trying to remove Amoret's heart, which represented…"

"I can figure that much out myself," said Buffy. "But, from a literal level, what kind of a threat would you say he is?"

"I don't know. He died too quickly for us to gauge his power, outside the fact that he presumably created the Maske of Cupid. And Britomart was a very good fighter, plus she had a magic spear. But there might be one way. Hypothetically, I mean."

"I'm all ears."

"Busirane is an allegorical figure. If someone truly chaste were to fight him…"

"I'm afraid I can't help you there," said Buffy. "I lost my virginity when I was 17."

"Well, modern society is becoming much more liberal in terms of sexuality," Violet said. "Were you at least in love?"

"Oh, sure. I mean, it wasn't like last year, which I mostly spent banging a soulless vampire that I hated."

"Oh. Well, then…"

"Well, what about her?" said Buffy, pointing to Violet. "_She's_ a virgin, right?"

"Of course she is," Klaus said. "But being chaste isn't technically the same thing as being a virgin."

"And I suppose you don't think I'm both!" Violet said.

"Well… not necessarily to an _allegorical_ degree, is all I mean," Klaus said.

"I suppose I should be glad you finally got this out in the open," Violet said, "but I guess I'm just too busy wishing Quigley were here so I could lose my precious virginity…"

"Bowlder!" shouted Sunny.

Her siblings stopped fighting and looked at her. "She's right," Violet said. "This isn't the time or the place for a discussion like this."

"I'm sorry if I implied that you're not chaste," Klaus said.

"I'm sorry if I inferred that you don't think I'm chaste," Violet said. "But no matter how chaste I am, I am not an accomplished fighter. But there is one woman we haven't considered."

Meowth laughed, then Jessie slugged him.

"The heroes panic, but not Count Bleck!" shouted Count Bleck. "He and I both use magic, but I think mine is stronger. Those with great power do not kidnap maidens unless there are at least seven worlds between them and the hero. This Busirane would be suited to a boss of World 1 or 2, but he is not endgame boss material like I, Count Bleck!"

"Try not to underestimate him!" Klaus said. "Remember, this isn't a computer game."

"I'll be fine," said Count Bleck seriously.

Then Count Bleck waved his wand. The doors that had been crushing Jessie's foot suddenly disappeared as they folded on themselves like paper. As Jessie fell to the grounds, crying, Count Bleck floated over her head and through the door. Buffy followed quietly.

Suddenly, Buffy missed her jacket. The cave was as frigid as the outside had been humid. Now, Buffy's bare skin felt the chilly needles of the cold prickling her flesh. She wrapped her arms around her shoulders and shivered. But she pushed on, hoping her body would adjust.

Most of the procession was now gone. Captain Kirk was still there, chained to a pillar. Someone else—presumable Brusirane—sat nearby, writing strange designs on the floor, while a book rested near his side. Count Bleck hovered closer.

"Stop!" moaned Kirk.

"What?" said Count Bleck.

"This man," said Kirk. "I don't know who or what he is, but he has great powers. Those letters he's writing on the floor… keep away from them. I tried to step over one, but it paralysed me. I couldn't move at all until those creatures you saw before picked me up. I don't know if the others will do the same thing, but I wouldn't try to find out if I were you.

Buffy glanced over the floor. The shapes were densely packed together. Buffy doubted a mouse could have sneaked through without setting off at least ten of them.

"Hm, clever," said Count Bleck. "And yet not clever enough. If I were a teacher, I would be inclined to give you a B. This puzzle does look unsurpassable. But it is not."

Then, as if passing through an invisible revolving door, Count Bleck managed to 'flip' himself out of sight, then re-appeared within the circle a second later. Busirane growled and pulled a knife out of his pocket, then lunged at Count Bleck. In response, Count Bleck swung his wand, releasing a swirling wave of shadow-like energy that knocked Brusirane ten feet through the air and into the middle of his character field.

And he simply got to his feet, unaffected by his own dark magic.

Count Bleck, however, was unimpressed.

"You are still in more danger than I," said Count Bleck. "I may not be able to touch you there, but I can still attack you, no matter where you stand."

Count Bleck continued to hurl his generic projectiles, but Busirane simply stepped a few feet to the right, apparently hiding inside some sort of an invisible shield. Count Bleck continued to throw his attacks relentlessly against the barrier, but no matter which angle he attacked from, Busirane remained unharmed.

And the attacks kept Bleck from noticing that Brusirane began mumbling again.

Captain Kirk had been struggling until now, but he suddenly stopped. His head stooped momentarily, but then he awakened, looking up at Count Bleck with an expression of half-conscious malice that seemed to be channelled through his eyes.

"Stop that," he said. "It's not going to work. Free me instead."

Count Bleck glanced back at Kirk, but Buffy called out for him to stay his hand.

"Don't do it!" she said. "I think that Kirk is being mind controlled!"

Count Bleck turned back to Busirane, who had began chanting again. Then the rope holding Captain Kirk to his post dissolved.

"Watch out!" shouted Buffy.

Bleck turned back to face Kirk. The captain had pulled his phaser, and was pointing it straight at Count Bleck. He raised his wand, apparently planning to evade the attack. But he had forgotten about Busirane, who soon finished reciting a third spell. Count Bleck was pulled back, passing over what looked like a kneeling man character. He twitched harshly, then his entire body stiffened. He fell upright on the ground, unmoving as a statue, except for his eyes, which focused on Kirk's phaser as it fired into his chest.

The force knocked Count Bleck down, and his head landed atop a character resembling a dog-headed man. His body shook violently, as if death would have been more merciful than whatever pain he was experiencing. But it was short-lived; he gave one single, violent jerk before his body lay on the ground in a weak, half-conscious state. A giant heart of the sort often seen in Valentines Day imagery appeared, slowly rotating above his body. Busirane, either out of instinct or understanding, stuck his dagger through the organ and slowly tore down the centre. Once the heart had been properly severed, it had 'flipped' out of existence, like a shape of infinite thinness falling over into an invisible angle.

"Count Bleck!" the Baudelaire children shouted.

"Dis would be a perfect time to use Dialga and Palkia!" shouted Meowth.

"Right!" Jessie thrust her hand into her pocket. Then she pulled it back out, a look of embarrassment on her face. "Oh, dear. It would seem that I left them in the car."

"Dat was a bright move!" shouted Meowth.

"Well, we'd still have our _robot_ if you remembered to put armour around the gas tank!" Jessie responded.

"Would you two shut up!" Buffy shouted. Then she turned to Violet, and said more gently, "Violet, if I don't survive what I do next, I want you to help Jessie and Meowth rebuild the DeLorean, then go find help."

"Why?" Violet said. "What are you going to do?"

Buffy spent several seconds looking over the patterns on the floor. "Klaus? Can you read those?"

Klaus looked at the letters. "Well, they appear to be Egyptian Hieroglyphs."

"Okay," said Buffy. "Can you read Egyptian Hieroglyphs?"

"I think so. Let's see… That one that Bleck fell on just now… I don't know, because it is sort of messy, but it looked like it's either Set or… Anubis."

"The God of the Dead. So it's not random. Anything else? What about the one that paralysed him?"

"That's Huh. God of eternity."

"Okay. And the one with the feathers?"

"Ma'at. Goddess of Justice. She was the one that protected Busirane from Count Bleck's attacks."

"Okay, so we know what all those do. The only one we haven't seen yet is that guy with the little wand."

"That is Min, God of Fertility. But that isn't a wand."

"Oh. Well, fertility can't be too deadly. Two dangerous ones and two less dangerous ones. Good to know."

Buffy stepped back, looking over the ground's lettering for an area that looked particularly unthreatening. Huh was spread about like chips in a cookie; she wouldn't be getting over there without being paralysed. She was, however, able to find an area without Anubis.

"Please don't impregnate me," she whispered to herself before running towards the lettering.

Busirane had not expected that. The look on his face was almost comical as the Slayer ran straight towards the hieroglyph field. Perhaps her leap was more surprising, as the enchanter hadn't time to step aside before her paralysed body crashed headlong into him. It was unclear what, exactly, had killed him. The loud crack Buffy heard as she rammed into him seemed to suggest a broken spine, but the ground was pretty hard, so head trauma was also possible.

"Oh, no!" said Buffy. "I hope I didn't kill him. I mean, I'm no stranger to necrophilia, but I'd kinda prefer the guy moves while I'm doing him." And she meant it.

"I think we figured out what that Min hieroglyph did," Klaus said with disgust.

"I hope so," added Violet. "But remember that comment about the vampire she hated?"

Buffy looked across to her team. "Now I can't move. Any help?"

"Don't worry!" said Meowth. "We got just da thing!"

The cat produced a very cartoony contraption that, judging by its design and structure, could extend via some sort of spring mechanism.

"No! Don't!" Klaus shouted. "Don't move her."

"Eh? Why not?" said Meowth.

"Because I just remembered something important," Klaus said. "In the original poem, Busirane didn't die. Amoret told Britomart that his spells would never wear off if he did."

"So, what?" said Jessie.

"So, dat means da captain over dere is still gunnin' for us," said Meowth. "But why won't he attack Buffy if she's cuddlin' with Busirane?"

"He doesn't want to kill Busirane by mistake," Klaus said.

"But he's already…" started Meowth, but Violet quickly cupped her hands across his mouth.

"So I'm stuck here?" said Buffy.

"Not necessarily," Klaus said. "We just need to find a way to get Kirk's gun from him."

From where she lay, Buffy couldn't see Kirk, but she had a perfect view of her team. It was depressing. Klaus and Violet and Sunny all looked pensive for a few minutes, but soon their brainstorming seemed to give way to despair. Meowth and Jessie seemed to try harder—perhaps because the thought of Buffy's death didn't distract them—but they were making no more progress.

"It's not that hard!" said Buffy. "Throw something at him, if you have to."

"But that might kill him!" Violet said.

"Not trying will kill everybody," responded Buffy.

Klaus and Violet exchanged looks of concern and pity that said that they weren't convinced that the stakes were quite as high as Buffy claimed.

Jessie had no such inhibitions. Without a word, she grabbed Meowth by the scruff of his neck and lifted him.

"You aren't!" said Meowth.

"Sorry, but you heard the lady," said Jessie. "World at stake and all that."

Then, with a mighty toss, Jessie sent Meowth hurtling straight over the hieroglyph field. He disappeared out of Buffy's view, but a loud crashing sound from behind indicated that he had made contact with Captain Kirk.

"That takes care of that," said Buffy. "Now unfreeze me."

Compliantly, Jessie picked up Meowth's contraption and stretched it out until it prodded Buffy's arm. Suddenly, she felt a strange jolt run through her body. The sensation of having nothing wrong doesn't usually feel like anything, but, as she could feel her entire body loosening up, she knew she'd never forget what it was like.

After spending a few seconds flexing her limbs, she reached over and grabbed Meowth by the tail. The cat thanked her at first, but let out a shrill scream when he saw her looking over the field again.

"You aren't," said Meowth.

"Sorry," said Buffy, "but it's the only way across."

Buffy tried to be gentler, using the weakest throw that she knew could get Meowth over the field. She ended up giving him a strong toss that landed him on his back a few feet from the hieroglyphs, again paralysed. Buffy leapt after him, landing by Meowth's head.

"Okay," said Buffy. "It looks like you four won't be able to make it across, so we'll have to go on without you. Just unparalyse us using that thing, and we'll be on our way."

But relief came not from a thing, but rather a strong hand grabbing her upper arm and pulling her to her feet.

"How did you get here?" asked Buffy, practically in Jessie's face.

"I dug," said Jessie, smiling and pointing to a tunnel that Klaus was currently climbing out of.

"Really?" said Buffy. "Well that sure is convenient. Too bad you were physically incapable of doing that before, when Count Bleck was getting killed and needed our help."

Then Jessie let out something that sounded like an "Eulp!" before sweating profusely, laughing, scratching the back of her head, and mumbling, "Well, he seemed to be doing fine. And we really didn't want to risk our lives."

"Well, good, then," said Buffy. "You didn't risk your lives. You just got Count Bleck killed. Oh, wait. No, you _did_ risk your lives, because HE WAS THE ONE PROTECTING US! If we run into anyone else as strong as Busirane, we're dead."

Then Jessie's face fell. She seemed to be showing real regret, but, somehow, that just made Buffy angrier. _How dare she try to make me feel sorry for her?_ she thought, along with, _How dare she feel guilty when I deserve that privilege more?_

"But don't worry about it," she said with less energy. "We've all got innocent people killed. Hell, I got my mother killed."

Buffy turned away from Jessie, now feeling as if she hadn't the right to co-exist with a mere burglar, much less look at her.

She walked on, brooding to herself silently in the hopes that she'd get something mean and ugly to unleash her rage on. What she eventually found was a spiral staircase. She swore to herself loudly before stepping into the stone stairwell, then looked upward to gauge how long the climb would be. The answer was 'very.'

But Buffy began to walk up the staircase, anyway. The trek seemed intimidating at first, but as Buffy climbed, she found herself capable of appreciating a certain beauty in her surroundings. Not so much the architecture, because that was both ugly and creepy, but the apparent absence of any monsters was heartening.

But as the journey continued, she grew increasingly anxious. The First Evil probably had more connections to more Big Bads across more universes than Buffy could imagine. So she felt only release when an ugly humanoid blob finally appeared at the top of the steps.

The creature was white and extremely lumpy, with dark spots appearing at the end of each boil-like swell. It was large and muscular, though its form seemed artificial, as if it were actually a man in a rubber suit. It had no face to speak of, though a pair of eyes grew from the top of its head and another pair seemed to be coming from stalks on its shoulders. As Buffy stepped closer, she came to realise that _all_ the bumps on the creature's body were eyes. Indeed, only its hands, face, and feet seemed devoid of any of the accursed unblinking eyes.

"Well, it would seem the Slayer is easy on the eyes," said the beast. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Eyeguy."

With a mighty scream, Eyeguy sent miniature bolts of energy flying from his many eyes in as many directions. Each one set off a small explosion that knocked the heroes back down dozens of steps.

"Look at all those eyes," Klaus said.

"I know," Violet added. "It's creepy."

"Vase!" Sunny said.

"She's right," Klaus said. "He does look like that picture of Argus we saw at the museum."

"Refresh my memory," said Buffy, ducking another spray of eye blasts. "How was Argus killed?"

"Hermes did it," Klaus responded. "But I've heard several different stories about how. Usually, he just put the monster to sleep, then killed him. Sometimes, he'd sing him to sleep. Other times, he'd talk him to sleep."

"Right, right, but which one really happened?"

"I don't think any of them _really_ happened. Argus wasn't… at least, I never thought he was real."

Jessie pulled out her Pokéballs and looked over them. "Drats! If Jigglypuff were here, we could take this. Well, Meowth, it looks like it's up to you."

"Why me?"

"Because you're the only Pokémon here who can sing," said Jessie. "So you have the best chance of using Sing. Or, failing that, just being really boring."

Meowth hung his head. "Well, a cat's gotta do what a cat's gotta do."

So Meowth walked up the steps like a brave little furry soldier, staring with determination at Eyeguy. The hulking mass could only point its many ocular weapons in shock as the cat stared him in the eyes and began to sing, in a vaguely lullaby-like tempo:

_Go to sleep, you scary eye beast_

_Close all your eyes, or fifty at least_

_We need to get by, so do us a favour_

_And try to find a nice nap to savour_

_So we can sneak by, then what'll be da loss?_

_You won't get in trouble, cause we'll kill your boss_

_So put dat dere creepy, big, ugly head_

_Into da end of a big ugly bed_

Buffy chortled, prompting Meowth to turn and challenge her loudly to do better on such short notice.

"I really didn't have much time, ya know," he said, arms crossed crossly.

Then, without warning, a strange energy beam shot down from the sky, hitting the cat in the back. In one second, his entire body was enveloped by the strange aura. In two, his furry form dissolved into the beam, which promptly retracted back into the sky.

Jessie had vaulted off Buffy's back and made a flying tackle towards Meowth, reaching his location just an instant after he vanished. She landed on the ground motionlessly for several seconds before she even bothered to move. When she did, it was with the speed and power of a glacier. Buffy remembered what had happened when James was killed, then found herself stepping back.

Jessie actually looked like she was on fire when she got to her feet.

"Ever since James died, Meowth had been my only friend. Now I'm alone."

"Oh, are you now?" said Eyeguy. "Oh, dear. I think I have something in my eye."

With astounding speed, Jessie grabbed Eyeguy in a sleeper hold and leapt with him off the staircase.

Buffy didn't look over the edge. She had a pretty good idea of what had happened, and didn't need the visual. "Come on," she said. She began to walk back up the staircase, followed by the kids. Buffy glanced back at them every once and a while, but they didn't seem too badly affected by what had happened. The horrible thing was that Buffy hadn't been, either.

It was perhaps her sixth or seventh glance when she saw a small cluster of eyeballs floating into her field of view.

"Damn!" She pushed her way through the Baudelaires to place herself between them and Eyeguy. It took only seconds for the creature to fully reshape. Once it did, it raised its arms and let out a scream of triumph, giving Buffy a chance to deliver a jump kick to the chest. Unfortunately, the creature was surprisingly tough, and this kick in the chest/eye bounced off as if she had kicked a stone wall.

"Do you really think you can hurt me, silly Slayer?" said Eyeguy. "I was one of Rita's finest monsters. The apple of her eye. You don't stand a chance against me."

Buffy got back to her feet, trying to suppress a smile. "Maybe not in a fight," she said. "But I think I could take you in a race."

"I cannot see your point," said Eyeguy.

"Then let me spell it out for you," said Buffy, "You claim nigh invincibility, yet you have something, somewhere, that you used to absorb Meowth. But, for some reason, you keep it hidden all the way up there. So, I'm thinking, maybe it's not just a weapon. Maybe it's a weakness."

"Maybe it isn't," responded Eyeguy.

"And maybe, if I was going to stop attacking you so I could run madly up a flight of stairs, you wouldn't try to talk me out of it. But, you know what? I'm gonna risk it. Of course, if you really have no weakness, you're perfectly free to stand here and attack the kids instead of me."

So Buffy dashed up the stairs, trying to divide her attention between her front and back. More eye beams followed, but Buffy dodged them easily. Soon, Eyeguy was interrupted by something that made him scream aloud. As Buffy rounded the spiral staircase, she saw Violet pointing what looked like a headlight from the DeLorean into what looked like a dented rear-view mirror from the same car. The beam of light, probably concentrated by the angles of the mirror, was being forced into one of the monster's many eyes. Eyeguy tried to twist or face away, but no matter how he moved, that light stayed in one of his many lidless retinas.

So Buffy continued up the stairs. Before long, she could make out a tiny form in the distance. As the minutes dragged by, she could see the form taking the shape of a giant eyeball. The ocular behemoth pointed at her, then released an even bigger bolt than any of the tinier eyes had been able to.

Buffy leapt out of the way just in time, but didn't feel any more confident. The eye was smart; it was floating far away from the physical steps, above what must be a fifty-story drop. She started going through her bag, hoping to find a good throwing weapon, when she heard a voice call out to her.

"You're alive?" said Buffy.

"It'll take more than a fall to kill me," said Jessie. Then, smiling, she added, "Or two, for that matter."

The giant eye shot another bolt, and Buffy once again dodged. She then stuck her right arm out, bending her forearm towards her left, and stood with her back to the eye. Jessie ran and leapt onto Buffy's arm, and Buffy helped Jessie leap further at the eye. Buffy thought she could hear Eyeguy screaming below as Jessie wrapped her body around the giant eye, and her weight pulled it rapidly towards the ground.

Then she heard Eyeguy scream again, and there was a quick explosion.

Buffy headed back down the stairs, meeting the Baudelaire orphans halfway. Jessie, now walking on a crutch, joined them soon afterwards.

"Is it dead?"

"Wick effect," Sunny said with a nod.

"Good," said Buffy. She wanted to add, I'm sorry about Meowth, but thought that Jessie might not need the reminder right then.

So Buffy pushed on. Then, when Klaus and, later, Violet began to complain of fatigue, Buffy felt only annoyance. But she knew that she could only push them so far before they collapsed or, worse, started making mistakes, so she grudgingly agreed to accept a campout in the middle of the steps. Buffy kept awake during the first watch, which had remained relatively quiet, then woke Jessie to take over the second.

It was funny how Buffy hadn't realised _how_ steep the incline was while trudging up the thing. But now that she was pressing her spine against those steps and lying down on them, she was starting to feel like she was trying to sleep leaning against a wall. That she was able to fall asleep at all seemed to prove that at least some version of God had come to this world to keep an eye on her.

This was reinforced the following day, when they awoke to find themselves still alive, despite the Baudelaires and Jessie having all been asleep. The Baudelaires seemed like mature kids, so Buffy decided to blame and kick Jessie. Jessie complained about the accusation, saying that "Just because it's true doesn't make it right," but said nothing else on the subject except that Buffy shouldn't have kicked her in the neck.

"I didn't kick you in the neck, I kicked you in the leg."

"Then why does my neck hurt so much?"

"I don't know," she said. "Maybe a vampire bit you, but was too stupid to finish you off."

"In _Dracula_," Klaus started, but Buffy waved her hand at him.

"The First Evil is from my world. And, where I come from, vampires kill people _when_ they sire them. Besides, if a vampire were here, he or she would have attacked us all, and not just Jessie. If your neck hurts, you were probably sleeping on it wrong. And, considering you're on a staircase, you were."

So they continued the climb, which eventually led to a door and adjoining hall. The rough cave-like décor that had overrun the rest of the castle had finally graduated to a more refined cave-like décor. The walls still looked like cave walls, but they now much smoother, aside from countless archaic-looking engravings covering them. There was only one door, located at the end of the hallway.

"Okay, everyone, be careful," said Buffy. "This place seems too…"

The door opened. A creepy, balding white creature emerged, almost floating, from the door opposite. This one, Buffy recognised.

"Count Orlok," she said. "Funny. I was expecting someone… well, more dangerous. I am the V_ampire_ Slayer, you know. I've even beaten Dracula. What makes the First think I can't kill his German cousin?"

Count Orlok then said, in a deep, vaguely rat-like voice, "You will find that underestimating me is a mistake."

"Really?" said Buffy. "Look, no offence, but I _have_ seen _Nosferatu_. The skulking around and killing people in their sleep thing ain't gonna work so much on a wide-awake Slayer. I kill scarier things than you every Friday."

"Fear is a useful emotion for humans. Sometimes, the most dangerous situations are those where terror cannot give proper warning."

"And that's gonna stop me from dusting you because?" Buffy reached for a stake, but someone grabbed and restrained her from behind. She couldn't see whom, but she felt a pair of breasts pushing into her back. "Jessie?" There wasn't an answer.

"Jessie can't hear you," said Count Orlok. "She is under my spell, and will only do what I say."

Buffy tried to struggle, but couldn't get the leverage to break free. As Count Orlok drew near, she could think only of the children.

"Do you have a piece of wood?" she asked.

Violet opened her bag and began to look through it. But she wasn't fast enough.

Already, Count Orlok was on top of Buffy, his teeth in her shoulder. Struggling became futile as her blood and strength left her. She was still dizzy when she noticed the vampire pulling open his own vein.

Yet she wasn't scared. She was a Slayer. She always knew death was inevitable, and being sired a possibility. She began to wonder what a sired Slayer was like. Had any Slayers been sired before? And how strong were they? Comparable to a normal Slayer, or were they as far beyond a Slayer as a vampire was beyond a human? All this came and went in her mind, inappropriate as it may sound, as her own mouth was stuck against the rat-like vampire's exposed vein. All she could do was close her eyes, hold her breath, and try to clench her nose against the decayed body.

It was over quickly. Count Orlok withdrew, a creepy smile on his face. Buffy slowly opened her eyes, staring at her attacker's smirk.

Then she spat the blood she had been storing in her cheeks straight into his eye.

Buffy spat whatever saliva she could make out on the ground. Suddenly, she heard a loud scream, and looked up to see Sunny Baudelaire attacking Count Orlok. Buffy tried to will herself enough energy to intervene, but couldn't escape Jessie's grip, and doubted her weakened legs could support her if she had gotten out. She was left to merely watch in horror as the vampire turned to Sunny, only to get himself decapitated.

"Wait… what the hell!?"

Buffy looked down incredulously as the Nosferatu's body slowly faded, and Sunny felt her own teeth to make sure they were still in good condition.

"Did you just decapitate Orlok with her teeth?" said Buffy.

"Yes," Sunny said.

"Okay, good. Let's move on."

Jessie snapped out of her spell, groggily dropping Buffy to the ground.

"What happened?" she asked.

"We were attacked by a vampire," Klaus said. "Fortunately…"

"You mean there _are_ vampires here?" said Jessie. "That's it! I'm leaving!"

"You're leaving _now_?" Violet said. "Are the vampires really worse than the robots, enchanters, or eyeballs you were willing to fight?"

"But I've already been bitten," said Jessie. "I have to find a cure!"

"I don't think there is one," Klaus said.

"I don't care what you think!" said Jessie. "I am not going to spend all eternity in a body that can't see her own reflection!"

Buffy tried to get to her feet, but Klaus pushed her back down, telling her to get some rest.

"I'm fine," said Buffy. She watched as Jessie headed back down the staircase, looking for a cure she may or may not find.

"You should still rest," Klaus responded. "People who donate blood are usually forced… everyone, play dead."

This last comment was in reference to the approaching footsteps. The three Baudelaire children dropped to the floor, eyes closed. Buffy kept her eyes open long enough to see a tall Spanish man arrive, carrying a baby. Then Buffy closed her eyes. He seemed to think they were already dead, because he simply opened the adjoining door and walked into the next room.

Buffy had no idea who he was, but she doubted he was bringing the child to be Baptised.

*

-

*

Waspinator and _Beast Wars_ are based off the properties created by Hasbro. The TV series was made by Mainframe Entertainment.

The Baudelaires and _A Series of Unfortunate Events_ were created by Daniel Handler under the pseudonym Lemony Snicket and are currently owned by HarperCollins Children's Books.

Eyeguy and _Power Rangers_ are owned by Saban and Buena Vista Television. They are based off Dora Argus and _Kyoryu Sentai Zyuranger,_ respectively, from the _Super Sentai _franchise, which is owned by Toei.

_Nosferatu_ and Count Orlok were created by F.W. Murnau, and were based off Bram Stoker's now public domain novel, _Dracula_. The film was distributed by Prana Film.


	30. Endgame 2

The First Evil was in Buffy's form as it turned to greet the newcomer and child.

"Ah, Ambrosio. Glad you could finally make it. Did everything go well?"

"Indeed, master, all has passed to satisfaction. I owe much to Captain Kirk, who, upon learning the wrench was with child, had the rebels and vampires arrested, then took the newborn from the screaming mother's arms to prevent what he saw as a barbarous sacrifice. The Square tried to free them once the seed was sewn, but Badenov intervened on the attempts, sticking his knife squarely in the shape's back. How he had escaped was beyond my understanding; I had questioned him on the subject once we returned to this world. He told me only that he had a spare key. When I pointed out that the cells operated by technology and computers, rather than locks, he responded that he was referring not to the key to the cells, but the key to something called a 'truck.' Perhaps this was a sort of jest, though its bite lay outside the understanding of my temporal limitations. But my story has skipped ahead. My tale should be at the Captain's securing of the young Bearer. Not knowing what to do with the babe, he first tired to seek out an orphanage. It was at this point that I, with the help of a ship I was able to borrow from some unearthly beings, contacted him through the viewing screen.

"Once contact was made, I said unto him, 'I heard, good captain, that you are in need of a monastery to care for a bastard whose mother has recently been arrested on your ship?'

"My comment seemed to raise confusion among the captain's crew; one of the underlings questioned the captain as to the significance of the monastery. I might, at other times, have cried at the youth's ignorance—or, had I accounted for the differences in language and custom that are likely to arise from existing such a distance from our Lord's arms, simply laughed at the young heathen. Yet the captain's response had filled my veins with rage. It was thus:

"'He's just joking, Chekov. Back in the ancient days, when religion was still prominent on Earth, people left orphans in monasteries. I'm impressed by his knowledge of Earth history.'

"To think that this man lived in a world where God's word was reduced to a mere echo made the very marrow in my body freeze! If I, who had served the church loyally for my life, had been eternally damned for mistakes made in the remaining few seconds of its evening, then surely a man such as this, whose back had been mockingly presented to the Lord since dawn, should suffer all the more! Yet I digress; I knew that I could address his sins in due time, but I must now concentrate on the child.

"'If you would bring the child to the planet Seven-11, I would gladly take care of him."

"'The child is actually a she" said Kirk. "But I'll be glad to leave her with you. Of course, I'm going to have to look at the facility first. If you could give us the coordinates, we'll get there as soon as we can."

"It was fortunate that you had enlisted Kahn Noonien Singh to teach me the uses of a computer, for I would have been unable to transfer this information otherwise. As it was, however, I was able to send him the bait and lead him to the snare.

"The coordinates lead the Captain to an isolated body in the belt buckle of Orion. He arrived promptly, but with a point-eared devil as his companion. Indeed, his blasphemy had reached new levels! Barely able to restrain myself, I leapt at the Satanic figure and knocked him down with the strength you have granted me. No sooner had I done this than did Captain Kirk attempt to contact his crew for assistance, but I destroyed his communicator and knocked him unconscious. It was then that I used the faerie's ship to return to this world, both babe and captain in tow."

"I didn't ask for your life story," said the First Evil.

"I wanted you to know how your plan came to work, thanks to the misguided good deeds of Captain Kirk. Truly, hell is full of good intentions and desires."

"Great. Now could you explain why you set Captain Kirk up to be tortured _before_ you brought me the baby? Priority problems, much?"

"I merely wished to see the atheist suffer for his sins, as I have for mine. If I am to suffer for centuries for turning my back on God, surely all that neglect Him should feel pain that equals or surpasses mine. 'Tis unfortunate that he should have been freed before his time."

"Freed? By who?"

"The Slayer and her young accomplices. Worry not; their bodies were outside the door, so they have since been killed by the vampire."

"And Count Orlok confirmed this?"

"He was not present."

"So he was dead. And you didn't bother to check those other dead bodies to make sure they weren't just playing possum? Great. Billions of villains I could have made into a vessel, and I chose this dumbass. Don't worry. I'm not going to kill you. I still need you to act as muscle, at least until I've killed the last Bearer and escaped to Oz. But once I'm there, you will be spending the next century in purgatory. Now pull the lever, or I'm upgrading it to Hell."

Ambrosio gave the annoyed sigh of a man whose fate could not be argued against, then pulled a torch-shaped lever in the far corner of the room. A single, indiscreet wall opened up, revealing a large, glass tube. Inside were two short, animated people, each with tiny fly-like wings and a crown floating above their larger-than-torso heads. Their faces were both round and heads both flat, though one had a round swirl in her pink hair, the other a simple spike in his green.

The First Evil shrunk to the size of a small child, his pink-cap-clad head equally disproportionate to those of his prisoners. From his size, Buffy guessed that he couldn't have been more than five or six.

"Okay, Cosmo? Wanda? I wish that you'd kill that baby in exactly twenty-four hours."

"I'm sorry, evil spectre that kidnapped us and masqueraded as Timmy," responded the pink-haired one sarcastically, as she materialised a large book titled 'Da Rules.' "But we can't kill anyone."

"That's right!" said the First Evil. "Curse this abnormally dumb ten-year-old and the sudden drop in attention span that comes with this form! Ugh. Why couldn't I have found a smarter… hey! A nickel!"

"Dumb indeed," said Cosmo. "Even I can remember that Da Rules prohibits us from… wait, what was it that he wished… hey! A nickle!"

"Hey! Back off! That's my nickle! I mean… fine. If you can't kill them, then I wish for an incredibly complicated machine that will open a trap door in the bottom in exactly 24 hours."

Reluctantly, Cosmo and Wanda raised their star-shaped wands in the air. There was a big _poof!_ of smoke, and a complicated machine of presumably that very sort appeared.

"Now add a very big heavy weight to the side of the machine."

_Poof!_ And a large, malformed shape jutted from the already unsightly contraption's side.

"Now open a hole in the side of the wall."

This too was _Poof_ed! into being.

"Very good," said the First Evil, and then changed back into Buffy. "I always hate taking that kid's form. Ambrosio. I'll need you to move that machine until it hangs out over the side of the cliff. Make sure the counter balance stays on solid ground. We don't want anything happening to the baby until tomorrow."

The First Evil powered Ambrosio up, as he had done to Caleb and Count Olaf, then sat back as the Spaniard lifted the machine off the ground.

And then, as Buffy though to herself, it was Go Time. She ran into the room and grabbed the baby off the table, then sprinted back and handed her to Violet. By the time Ambrosio noticed what was happening and was able to drop the machine, Buffy had already positioned herself between him and the kids.

"You shouldn't be so eager to die," said Ambrosio. "I do not intend to let your life slip away before I have fully enjoyed it."

Ambrosio lunged towards the Slayer and threw a punch, but Buffy easily ducked the attack and swept towards the glass case containing Cosmo and Wanda. She leaned against it.

"So, enjoying this yet?"

"Whore!" shouted Ambrosio before charging straight towards Buffy.

Wanda pressed herself against the wall, then pulled Cosmo aside a second later. Buffy dodged a second after that.

And Ambrosio slammed into the glass case, which shattered on the spot. Once the glass stopped falling, two mice—one green, one pink—scurried out over Ambrosio's body.

"Thanks for the help," said Buffy. "I couldn't have broken that glass without your Caleb strength." She leaned against the glass wall, accidentally knocking over and shattering a large shard. "What do you know? I could have. Wow. I made you look like an idiot for nothing."

Then Buffy turned to Cosmo and Wanda, and continued: "Okay, now. Get the kids to safety."

"But we can't," said Wanda. "You're not our godchild."

"That's right," said Cosmo. He then held up a picture of the ten-year-old boy the First had turned into minutes earlier. "See? You aren't even wearing the pink hat."

"Fortunately," said the First Evil, again in the ten-year-old's form, "I am. And I wish that you'd turn Buffy into…"

"Look!" said Buffy, pulling a handful of change out of her pocket. "Lots of nickels!"

She tossed them to the ground, delighting the First Evil (it even shouted "Oh! Shiny!") until it made several (unsuccessful) attempts to pick the change up before whining and resuming Buffy's form.

The real Buffy turned back to Cosmo and Wanda, trying to figure out the best way to break the news to them. "What if I told you that your godchild was dead?"

Wanda cupped her hands to her gasping mouth, and her watering eyes shot open, filled with pain and terror.

"Well, then we'd have to find another godchild," said Cosmo. "But why would you bring that clearly hypothetical situation up?"

"She's trying to tell us that Timmy _is_ dead, Cosmo!" said Wanda.

"I'm sorry," said Buffy. "But that's the only was the First Evil could transform into—"

The sound of crunching glass soon alerted Buffy to Ambrosio's awakening. She couldn't be bothered to comfort the fairies now, and instead chose to stomp Ambrosio hard in the gonads, then withdraw from his range. The monk tried to follow, but he was now injured and slower than before.

The First Evil just shook its head. "Fighting dirty, I see? Not that I should be surprised."

"You're not gonna get that to work on me," responded Buffy. "I am rubber you are… well, intangible. But I'm still rubber."

"Oh, I know that," said the First Evil. "Nothing fazes the Slayer. Not even murder."

Buffy seemed to falter, and almost let Ambrosio punch her in the side of the head. "I said, not gonna work."

"Ah, like I thought," said the First Evil. "Who is it that said we're not so unalike, you and I? Well, I guess a lot of villains said something like that. But it's true."

"What's she talking about?" Klaus said. "Who'd you murder?"

"Shut up!" said Buffy. "It was Angelus' fault! He made me do it!"

The Baudelaire Children didn't learn what had happened between Buffy and Angelus and Buffy's mother, but they were smart kids. They knew about vampire myths, and they knew that vampires turned others into vampires. Since Buffy came from a world with real vampires—or, at the least, had some reason to believe she did—it was easy to guess at what could have happened to make the First Evil's accusations of murder hit Buffy on such a deep level. Buffy's cold, laser-precise anger was now a wild explosion of violent rage. She tried to swing at the First Evil, hitting only air, then turned her futile abuse on Ambrosio. Her fist caught the Monk in the chin, but he barely flinched. Next, he grabbed Buffy by the wrist and pulled her face-first into a punch. Buffy recoiled long enough for the Baudelaire's to see the blood running down her nose, but was pulled back into an attack several more times. Eventually, once Buffy stopped struggling, Ambrosio swung her into the wall, then pinned her body with his own.

And this was too much for the Baudelaires to take. Rather than watch Buffy's continued abuse, they turned to the wall, each desperately trying to think of a way to save her. But, no matter how much they tried to apply their own talents or skills, none could think of anything that might help.

"He's too strong for us to hurt," Violet said. "Look at how easily he fought off Buffy! Without a weapon, we couldn't even get his attention."

"And if we tried, we'd just make him angrier," Klaus said, "Then he'd just hurt Buffy more."

"Chosen," Sunny said, by which she meant, "What we need to do is stop the First Evil, thereby removing Ambrosio's motivation."

"But we don't know how to do that, either," Violet said. "And, once again, we're being forced to watch as evil hurts and destroys the only good people we know."

"I'm starting to believe Buffy's theory," said Klaus. "I know it sounds illogical, but it feels like the constant string of misfortune that plagued our life couldn't have happened without some all-powerful Author dictating it."

"I know how you feel," said Violet. "I don't think it's a coincidence anymore, because it is very statistically significant when so many misfortunes of such a great magnitude happen to the same group of people."

The children noticed that those last comments drew the attention of Wanda, who was looking with some hope towards the Baudelaires.

"I'm sorry to interrupt," said Wanda, "but this is important. Were you telling the truth back there, when you were talking about how bad your lives are?"

"Unfortunately, we were," Klaus said.

"That's great!" shouted Wanda.

"Pardon me?" Klaus said, sure he had misheard something.

"No, I mean, that if you're miserable, you can help us fix everything!"

"How does our being miserable help?"

"Simple. If you're unhappy, then we can become your Fairy Godparents!"

"Like in Cinderella?" Klaus said.

"Right. Exactly like that. Our job is to grant wishes for miserable children. And, since the First Evil killed everyone else in Fairy World when he kidnapped us, I guess that we're unofficially in charge of assigning ourselves new godchildren."

"Really miserable godchildren," added Cosmo, smiling widely.

"So you'll grant any wish we want?" Klaus said.

"Sure," said Wanda. "Within reason. Give it a try."

"Well, then, stop that Monk from beating up Buffy!"

"Can do, ace!"

Then both fairies raised their wands in the air. A bright, pink _poof_ of smoke flashed across the forms of Buffy and Ambrosio. When it cleared, Buffy was lying alone on top of a wooden crate. Loud bangs came from the inside, but the box gave no signs of breaking.

"Sorry," Wanda told the box, "but that's magic wood. The only way to break it is with more magic."

The pounding became louder, and was soon joined by a parade of middle-age cuss words that only two others in the room recognised, but from inside the box, his monstrous roars may as well have been the squeaks of a mouse.

The First Evil promptly returned to the form of young Timmy and demanded the release of Ambrosio. He didn't get what he wanted.

"Sorry, Mr. Evil," said Wanda. "But we've been reassigned to… uhh… what're your names again?"

"I'm Violet Baudelaire, this is my brother Klaus, and my sister Sunny."

"Right. We're the Baudelaires' fairies now. We don't have to do anything you ask anymore."

"And since the Baudelaire's aren't dead," said Buffy, "and you're just an intangible ghost, you can't turn into them, or even kill them. You're as helpless as a kitten. An intangible kitten." Then she turned to Violet. "Now make it tangible."

"But… why?" Violet said. "You said yourself it's helpless…"

"By itself, it's helpless," said Buffy. "But it'll get more minions soon enough, unless we end this now."

"I don't know," said Wanda. "This has bad idea written all over it. We don't know what the First Evil will be like when it becomes tangible. Only it knows that."

"Yeah," said Cosmo, shaking and pointing at the First Evil. "And it doesn't look too scared."

Indeed, the creature—once again in Buffy's form—was smiling.

"Go ahead," it said. "See what happens."

"It's bluffing," said Buffy. "Make it solid."

Klaus and Violet exchanged nervous glances.

"What should we do?" Violet said.

"I think we should do it," said Klaus. "It can't be killed otherwise. And Buffy does have a point—it needs to be stopped."

"Aloadae," said Sunny, which meant, "But for all we know, the First Evil might have god-like strength."

"It might," Violet said, "but, scientifically speaking, if it was created without a body, it shouldn't have the genetic makeup for any sort of superhuman strength when it becomes tangible, so it should retain a more-or-less average level of physical ability when artificially forced into a solid form. That's assuming it can survive at all."

"And even if it does get stronger," said Klaus, "there will have to be someone, somewhere, that's stronger than it. I would like to see the First Evil fighting Sigurd, or Gilgamesh, or Väinämöinen."

"I guess it's our only choice," said Violet. "But first, I wish that this baby will stay safe, no matter what happens." There was a _poof!_ around the baby, signifying her protection. "Next, I wish the First Evil had a solid body!"

Wanda, having much more experience with the supernatural, could only slap her own forehead as she and Cosmo raised their glowing wands.

There was another bright pink _poof,_ but this time, it was different. Even before the animated smoke cleared, more realistic smoke was visibly rising from the First Evil's body. It now looked only slightly like Buffy. The First Evil was originally a spirit, taking the forms of the dead while possessing no form itself. The Baudelaires had forgotten to consider one of the most basic principles of matter: that it cannot be created or destroyed. That is why the First Evil's spirit, acting as a sort of cross between a black hole and mold, had to absorb whatever matter was nearby. Everything within a short range—the stone floor, the broken glass from the fairy's chamber, the metal from the First Evil's baby-killing machine, and even the crate that Ambrosio was inside—was sucked in to create the mass for its physical manifestation.

The First Evil had a new body. Its shape and features almost resembled those of Buffy, having been in her design before the transformation, but the texture was not human at all. Most of it was made of stone, though other fragments were also visible; organs—no doubt the remnants of Ambrosio—were visible around its body behind a coating of glass. The chunks of wood from the magical crate stuck out from its back like spikes, and its upper arms and fists seemed to be made from clunky, jagged metal.

"Oh," said Cosmo. "That's a new one." He produced a large roll of parchment, identified as his "Last Will and Testament." "Now, who should I leave my stereo to?"

"Weren't you paying attention, Cosmo?" said Wanda. "The First Evil is planning to destroy our entire world! No one will be _left_ to leave anything to except horrifying heartless monsters and spawns from the deepest regions of you-know-where."

Cosmo glanced back over his will. "So… my mother?"

The First Evil looked at its body, flexing its fingers and admiring its arms. "This is nice," it said.

"I wish the First Evil would lose its body and become incorporeal again!" shouted Violet.

Cosmo and Wanda raised their wands again, but they faltered and wilted with a weak fart-like sound.

"Sorry," said Wanda. "But it looks like, in this form, the First Evil is too powerful for us to change back."

Buffy turned to the Baudelaires. "Run, and take the baby with you. I'll try to hold the First off as long as I can."

"Are you sure you can win?" Klaus said.

"I can't," said Buffy. "But I can slow it down. I'm willing to die for that."

"I would be too," Violet said. Then she and her siblings said no more.

The Baudelaires, Cosmo and Wanda with them, left the room. The children could only quicken their pace as they heard the First Evil attacking Buffy. Any hope that the Slayer could have beaten this opponent was rapidly fading, but they couldn't stay to help.

"I can't stand this," Violet said. "She might have been a bit mean, but she was still a good person at heart. I feel horrible leaving her back there."

"Lone," said Sunny, which meant, "We shouldn't go back. Buffy was willing to sacrifice herself so that we would live. It would be disrespectful to her memory if anyone else were to go back there to die with her."

"What was that, kiddo?" said Wanda.

"She said…" Klaus started.

"I know!" interjected Cosmo. "She said, 'I wish there were a bunch more people up there with Buffy!'"

And before anybody could correct him, he raised his wand into the air…

*

The First Evil's grip loosened—unintentionally, no doubt—as the beast turned towards the source of the _poof_!

Behind it now stood Ozma and many of her loyal inhabitants of Oz; Stewie Griffin; Malcolm and several well-armed English soldiers; Doc Brown and another mechanised DeLorean; Goku and most of his friends; Tim 'The Tool Man' Taylor, complete with a Binford monstrosity that seems to combine a jackhammer with a harpoon gun; and the surviving crew of the Starship Enterprise.

"What the heck happened?" said Tim incredulously. As he spoke, he lowered his jackhammer gun enough that, when it went off, it only knocked out one of the First Evil's stony legs. Buffy escaped from its grip as it fell, then pointed at the monster.

"That thing tried to kill me!" she shouted.

"That's a lie," said the First Evil. "She's a witch, and trapped me in this form when she stole my body. The only way to save me is to kill her."

"Come on!" said Buffy. "Who had their hands around whose neck?"

"There is one way to tell who's being truthful," said Ozma. As she said this, she pulled a piece of long golden string from her pocket. When she held it up, the dark, gothic nature of their surroundings seemed to vanish as the thread's beauty mesmerised all in the room. "This is the Thread of Honesty, a relic handed down among the Royal Family of Oz. Whenever two people contradict each other, we simply tie one end of the string around each one's wrist and have them repeat their statement. Then, when one of them tells a lie, the loop will contract, cutting off their hand."

"Sounds good to me," said Buffy.

"That won't be necessary," said the First Evil. "Besides, she can probably regrow limbs."

"You would not be so quick to dismiss the string if you had nothing to hide," said Ozma, "and the real Buffy would not have accepted the idea if she were a witch. We now know which one is the liar."

The First Evil showed fear for the first time. It was a look Buffy imagined her own face showed millions of times, but seeing it from the stony demon's visage made her feel, for the first time, like she might actually live.

It tried to hobble off on its one good leg, but was intercepted by Goku, who appeared in a flash and kicked it back into the crowd. Slowly, the group, wielding a variety of weapons, closed in on the creature.

The next few minutes were probably the best of Buffy's young life.

*

-

*

Cosmo, Wanda, and the _Fairly Odd Parents_ were created by Butch Hartman, and are owned by Nickelodeon.


	31. The Ending

"I think everything will be okay," said Buffy.

The Baudelaires looked at Cosmo and Wanda, then smiled. They seemed to be thinking the same thing.

But Wanda sighed. "Well, I guess you do need us more than Timmy did. I just have one favour. Could you please bring him back to life?"

"Of course," Violet said. "I wish that Timmy would—"

But Violet's words were cut short by a sudden puff of smoke. In the room now stood a large, muscular fairy in a sleeveless army costume. He held an oversized wand in his hands, and a dainty crown floated above his head. Whoever he was, he was obviously drawn by the same hand as Cosmo and Wanda.

"Jorgen Von Strangle!" Cosmo and Wanda shouted in unison.

"But… I thought the First Evil wiped out everyone in Fairy World!" said Wanda.

"Ha!" exclaimed Jorgen through his thick Schwarzenegger-style accent. "It takes more than one army to defeat the toughest fairy in the universe! Especially when the toughest fairy in the universe happens to be on vacation in the Caribbean during the attack." He produced and drank from a small glass of Ting before continuing. "But enough about me! You two are coming back with me so we can find you a new godchild."

"But they have godchildren!" Klaus shouted.

"They _had_ Godchildren," responded Jorgen. "But those godchildren couldn't keep them secret for three measly seconds! Look!" He thrust his large arm towards Buffy, pointing a single finger at her. "She already knows you have fairies!"

"I won't tell!" said Buffy. "Honest."

"That is so _not_ the point," retorted Jorgen. "Da Rules state that no child must let anyone else—especially an adult—know they have fairies, on penalty of having said fairies revoked and losing their memory of ever having had said fairies."

"But, why?" said Buffy. "If you can just wipe their memories, there isn't any harm."

"Hey," said Jorgen, "I didn't write the rules. I just told my stenographer what to write."

"You know," said Buffy, resting her hands on Jorgen's wand and looking him straight in the eyes, "I've had a really bad day--"

"And it's going to get a lot worse if you threaten me again," responded Jorgen. "Ha! Tough _and_ funny!"

"Don't try to push me around," said Buffy. "I've fought _gods_, so I'm not scared of you, Arnie."

That was a statement that would have felt much better had Buffy not afterwards found herself two feet high and without limbs. She couldn't turn her gaze to see the Baudelaires' reaction, but she heard them gasp and say that she had been turned into a fire hydrant.

"Are you scared now?" said Jorgen.

"A little," said Buffy.

"Good. Because if you weren't, I'd come back as a dog." Then Jorgen grabbed Cosmo and Wanda in a single hand. "Now, wasn't there anything else I needed to do before leaving? Oh well, it couldn't have been important." And he vanished in a puff of smoke.

"Hey!" said Buffy. "You're not going to leave me like this, are you?"

"Don't worry," said Ozma. "I'll return you to your normal form." And she did. Slowly, Buffy began to raise to her normal height. Painlessly, she regained the feeling in her arms and legs, and became very aware of her heartbeat.

"Thanks," said Buffy. "And I'm going to assume that you're the reason that fairy didn't flashy-thing me just now." She looked around, and noticed that, of the people Sunny had summoned, only Ozma was with them now. "Say, where's the rest of the mob?"

"I sent them back to their own worlds," responded Ozma. "I didn't want them to remain here any longer than necessary. However, I have to stay for now, as there is still one more problem that we need to figure out."

"What's that?" asked Buffy.

"This child is still an infant," said Ozma. "She is too young to sacrifice herself to the Pool of Life."

"So we'll keep her safe until she's older," said Buffy.

"It is not that easy," said Ozma. "We will have to wait sixteen years before she will be old enough. But I doubt Brian will live that long."

"Who's Brian?" Klaus asked.

"One of the Bearers," said Buffy. "He's a middle-aged talking dog."

"Then I see the problem," Klaus said. "Dogs live to be, on average, 14 years old. I don't know if talking dogs live longer, but if they don't, Brian's chances of making it to 21 aren't very good."

"The problem is not insurmountable," said Ozma. "We could, for example, keep him in Oz until the final Bearer has reached proper age."

"No offence," said Buffy, "but, considering how close you came to getting the Cowardly Lion killed, I don't think he'd be safe in your benevolent dictatorship."

Ozma was about to respond, but stopped and looked expectantly at the door. Buffy turned to look, too, just in time to see a magnificent animal fly into the room. It was a quadruped, white fur covering its entire body and a magnificent thread of hair flowing out behind its head. Golden coloured vine-like tubes circled around its torso, making it look more elegant.

"Da cavalry is here!" shouted Meowth, who, along with Jessie and James, was riding the creature's back.

"Aren't you dead?" said Buffy.

"Do I look dead!?" said Meowth. "Why did ya assume I was, anyway?"

Buffy chose not to answer that. "Who's your friend?"

"Dis here is Arceus," said Meowth. "After I got outta da eye, Jessie told me to run back to get Dialga and Palkia. I did, but rather dan bring dem back here, I used dem to return to my own world and seek out dis guy. And he's agreed to help!"

"That's super," said Buffy, "but the First is already dead."

"Oh," said Meowth.

"But it can still help us!" said Ozma happily.

"I'm sorry," said Buffy, "but I don't watch cartoons. What is Arceus going to do?"

"Arceus created Dialga," said Ozma, "and Dialga controls time. Now, it is simple logic that Arceus, too, can control time."

"That's not logic at all," said Violet. "People who create things often do so specifically to fulfil a purpose they, themselves, cannot."

"Yes, I suppose that is true in the real world," said Ozma. "However, it is wrong when magic is involved; it is not logical to say one could conjure something with abilities they, themselves, do not have, because magical abilities must come from somewhere. And since Arceus is immortal, spending sixteen years raising the child will barely seem to be more than a few minutes to It."

"So you're saying this thing is going to raise the baby?" said Buffy.

"It doesn't seem very polite to refer to someone else's God as a 'thing,'" said Klaus.

"Fine. This God," said Buffy. "I suppose this is another of those things I can't stop. But you are sure It can handle this?"

"I am positive," said Ozma. "You can trust Arceus with your life."

Meowth climbed off Arceus' back. The God lowered its head elegantly, and Meowth placed the baby on top. Arceus straightened itself up, then It and the baby began to slowly fade.

Buffy counted to three, and nothing began to disintegrate. "So far, so good." It was at this point that Team Rocket realised they were stranded, and began to yell out to their absent deity.

"This adventure is over," said Ozma. "However, the celebration is not. You are all heroes, so if any of you have anything at all you would like me to do for you, all you must do is ask."

"Send us home!" shouted Team Rocket in unison.

"Is that all?" said Ozma. "You are very brave people, and I would be willing to grant you any wish you wanted, providing it was moral."

"We don't 'do' moral," said Jessie.

"Three square meals a day would be nice, though," said Meowth.

"And a house," added James.

"And not being miserable all the time," conceded Jessie.

"I will gladly give you all of these things," said Ozma. "When you return to your own world, you will have a large house. Inside the house is a magical refrigerator that never empties. As for your happiness, that is something you will be able to achieve on your own now that you need not worry about food or shelter. But be forewarned that I am only giving you these things as a reward for your good deeds. If any of you do anything wrong, your prizes shall all vanish in a twinkle."

"Well, at least we'll have a few minutes of happiness," said James, looking straight at Jessie as he spoke.

"What about you?" asked Ozma, looking at Buffy.

"I've always wanted an iPod."

"An iPod?" said Ozma. "Are you sure you wouldn't prefer something more?"

But Buffy shook her head. "No thanks. I've been thinking a lot about this multiverse thing, and if every world, including mine, is fictional, then someone is writing my stories, and he or she must hate me. What I want more than anything else is for my mom to be alive. But if I brought her back, she'd just get killed again, and probably in an even more horrible way. So, get me an iPod. At least, when my author destroys that on me, I'll be able to handle it."

Ozma beamed, then materialised an iPod in Buffy's hand. "What about you, young Baudelaires?"

But there was only one thing the Baudelaires could think of at that moment.

"Cosmo and Wanda wanted Timmy back so much," Violet said, "but we didn't have time to wish for that."

"But you'd like me to bring him back?" said Ozma. "Then it shall be done. But surely there's something else you'd want?"

"At this point," Klaus said, "the only thing we really want is to live in safety from Count Olaf. Now that he's gone, I can't think of anything else we really need. Except for a house."

"Then I shall return you all to your own worlds," said Ozma. "And there, you will find a magnificent mansion all to yourselves." And the fairy girl raised her arms, and all of them could feel the world around them slipping away, as if they were being pulled from a pool.

*

"Argh!" Klaus screamed. It was not something he said often, though he and his siblings have had much reason to say that and more during their lives. But, as the three of them stood in their new mansion, there seemed no other word capable of describing their thoughts.

"Argh," Sunny said, and by that she meant, "I can't believe we never thought to have Ozma revive our parents!"

The Baudelaires were smart children—though they didn't say this out loud for fear of sounding vain—and all three of them couldn't stop wondering why none of them had thought to use their wish for that purpose while Ozma was still present.

"I guess we were so convinced that mom and dad were dead, we never thought of bringing them back when we still had the chance," Violet said.

"Or maybe Buffy was right," Klaus said. "Maybe our life is all a book that is so depressing, nothing good can ever happen in it again."

"You're saying that our forgetting about our parents was a plot contrivance?" Violet said.

"I know that it sounds unbelievable," Klaus said, "but after everything that's happened, it's hard not to believe a higher power is manipulating us."

*

"I must say, you were a lot more helpful than the God in Brian's world," said Giles.

Arceus was all majesty, but the Seventh Messiah, now a pretty dark-haired teenager, held that same majesty in a more human form. And, although they wouldn't admit it, the men couldn't help but find her quite attractive.

"Look," said Faith, "I know that you're the all-knowing creator of a universe, and I wouldn't want to question your wisdom or invoke your wrath, but, with all due respect, why the hell did you let my daughter wear such a short skirt?"

"Your parental concern for your daughter is both touching and hypocritical," said Giles.

"I just don't want her to make the same mistakes I did," said Faith.

"And I won't," said her daughter.

"I said that too, at your age," said Faith. "Then I grew up, and realised what a poster child for abortion I was."

"You shouldn't talk about yourself like that!" said her daughter. "You've made some mistakes, but you become a better person for it. I think I'd be very lucky to turn out as you did."

"No, you wouldn't," said Faith. "But it's a sweet thing to say… I'm sorry, but I was thrown in prison before I could name you…"

"It's okay," said the daughter. "Arceus gave me the name Autumn. I think it fits very well."

"Yeah, it's real f***cking great," said Brian. "But if we're going to be killed here, can we get it over with? God, the tension in these past months has been killing me."

"The ale came closer still, methinks," responded Macbeth under his breath.

"Up yours," responded Brian. "You can't tell me you're not as scared as I am."

"As most, I once felt fear o'er death," said Macbeth. "But hell tis all that claims my fright, And heaven's gates now holds my faith."

"I wish I could be as brave as him," said the Cowardly Lion. "I may be willing to face death, but I am terrified of it."

"That just makes you all the braver!" said Autumn.

"I, for one, wouldn't mind being a bit less brave right about now," said Marty.

"Pathetic," growled Vegeta. "A real warrior _embraces_ an honourable death."

"Well, I may not be an 'honourable warrior,'" shouted Marty, "but at least I don't wear tights."

"This is Sayian Armor!" shouted Vegeta.

"Yeah? Well, right now, it's sayin' 'Hey, guys. Look at my tight butt.'"

"People will be able to look at your tight butt on New Namek when I'm through with you!"

Al looked to Xander. "And I know these people?"

"Yeah," said Xander. "The gang is as fun as ever."

"Quite," said Mr. Peabody. "But the time for gaiety is over. I'm afraid that we must now perform the sacrifice. I will try to make it as painless as possible, but I am afraid that you will have to be awake. Now, each of you has been given a ball with a chain attached to it. The ball weighs one hundred pounds, which should keep you under the water. Now, you must all chain the ball to yourself and throw it into the Pool. I admit, it's a cruel way to go, but it is necessary."

The process was slow and agonising. Even though our heroes thought the Bearers would survive, watching seven people preparing themselves for such a barbaric sacrifice was still torture. After a minute's worth of long, long seconds, the seven Bearers had each attached their ball-and-chains. They each threw themselves into the Pool.

The Scoobies couldn't tell what the liquid was made of. The seven people slipped in, but the liquid didn't splash or ripple. They weren't even sure the level had raised; the Pool seemed pretty full before anyone leapt in, but it didn't spill after.

The liquid did, however, begin to change colour. Slowly, looking as if seven green ink packets had exploded within, the Pool began to fill with a glowing chartreuse light. The liquid, formerly transparent, was now opaque. For a second, they thought it became solid, but then remembered the liquid had never had any turbulence.

"How long do they have to stay down there?" asked Giles.

"I'm afraid they won't be coming back up," said Mr. Peabody.

Everyone stared. Giles was beginning to feel sick. What Mr. Peabody said didn't make sense. They had to come back up. He said so. And they'd believed everything he had said.

But Giles didn't know why they believed him. He felt at the time that cynicism and scepticism were dangerous modes of thought, and only blind faith could have led them to the happy ending. And though he never would know why they believed everything so readily, he felt now, more than ever, that they couldn't possibly have been wrong to do so. Not now that so many have died.

"But you said…" started Giles.

"Of course I did," responded Mr. Peabody coldly. "You needed to gather these sacrifices, or we all would have died. But if you knew what was really going to happen, you would have hesitated. You might have even refused, and we couldn't have that."

"What!?" said Xander.

"You see," continued Dumbledore, "There are no such things as Bearers or Batteries. The Pool of Life does sustain the universe, and we did need seven sacrifices. But it could have been anyone, as long as they did it willingly. For this Pool, heroism is the best nourishment, and only if someone dies willingly will the Pool survive."

"But why was the First Evil after them, then?" said Angel.

"Because _it_ thought the Bearers were real," said Dumbledore. "To destroy the world, all the First would really have to do is submerge itself in the Pool of Life. As an entity of pure evil, its mere presence would corrupt it, and it would no longer be able to sustain the multiverse. And since it's intangible, there would be no way for us to stop it. Fortunately, _it_ didn't know that. So we planted a few false documents in plain view to throw it off, and the rest was history. Quite literally, in fact."

"But… I sensed them," said Faith.

"You _thought_ you sensed them," said Dumbledore. "But it was all in your mind. The same was true of Ms. Summers. We told her that she would know who the Bearer was, so when she saw someone that drew her attention, such as a talking animal, or someone she recognised, or even someone that looked shifty, she'd wonder if they were the Bearer. Then, as she thought more about them, she'd 'know' that they were. You were more complicated, Faith. Whereas Buffy was concentrating and made these judgements automatically, you waited for these things to come to you. Only when you started to panic, and worry about finding them, were you able to 'figure out' who you were looking for."

"But what about my daughter? How'd I know I was pregnant?"

"You didn't. You thought you might be pregnant, and happened to be right. Then, when the possibility occurred to you that your daughter might be the Bearer, you subconsciously labelled her such."

"But the First Evil went after the same people as us!" said Willow. "You mean that it picked the same…"

"The First didn't really pick anything. But it had access to time travel. It watched you pick the Bearers once, then went back in time and entered the world at the same time as you."

"And what about Ozma? Or Karin? Or God?"

"All as misled as you were, I'm afraid."

"You mean you tricked _God_?" said Xander.

"We tricked _that_ one," responded Nibbler. "As wise as all of these people were, they could only know what they had been taught. And, thanks to Mr. Square's mastery of time as well as space, we were able to place the necessary documents far enough back in their own past to make them look authentic."

"But… he's God! Wasn't he there when the universe was created?"

"Not that one. Remember that Mr. Seth MacFarlane is an atheist. In that world, God didn't exist until Man created him."

"But what about Wilson?"

"I'm afraid that he was a random casualty of the Weird Sisters," said Dumbledore. "They left Macbeth's world for Tim's after Macbeth's death, then killed Wilson and took his house. Then, when you arrived, they made up that other story, probably just to reinforce the one we already told."

"And when the world was ending after Marty's near-death," said Willow. "Do you have any explanation for that?"

"It was unrelated to Mr. McFly's predicament," said Dumbledore. "I had merely chosen that moment to relieve myself into the Pool of Life. The universe was restored only after I was able to invent and cast a pool-cleaning spell."

"Wait… you what?" said Xander. "Oh, I see. This is all one big joke. Those seven are going to come out of that Pool any second, and everyone will scream, 'Surprise!' Right?"

"That's unlikely," said Nibbler. "But there have been a lot of unusual things going on in this castle around that time. Dumbledore's ill-advised bathroom break would not be the weirdest of them."

"But you sacrificed seven innocent people!" said Xander. "_We_ sacrificed seven innocent people!"

"No, just us," said Dumbledore. "I was very insistent that you shouldn't be forced down to our level. I don't ask for your forgiveness or your pity, as I don't expect nor deserve either. But I hope you do realise that, for a truly good man, the greatest sacrifice is not to give your own life, but to give your self-respect by giving someone else's."

"Right, tell that to your bloody victims, why don't you?" said Giles.

Spike charged at Mr. Peabody, but the vampire's arms and legs suddenly snapped together, and he fell face-first to the ground. Dumbledore slipped his wand back into his robe.

"I would not suggest anyone else try that," he added.

"You know," said Angel, "I'm thinking that drowning a bunch of guys on the word of a bunch of strangers may not have been a brilliant move on our part."

"Probably," said Xander. "Why did we listen to them again?"

"Who the hell knows?" said Giles. "I guess because we had to for the plot to progress."

"I don't like being fictional anymore," said Xander.

Giles didn't feel much like talking after that. The Triumvirate had confessed to so many things in a few minutes that it was hard to fathom just how furious he ought to be.

He had been so deep in thought that the sudden noise that filled the room had hit him with the mental force of a punch. The sound was impossible to describe in words; somewhere between a 'whoosh' and a 'zzzzzz' might best sum it up.

But before anyone could even consider the sound, its source became apparent; Vegeta, now glowing, had emerged from the Pool, holding his chain-ball in one hand.

"What is the meaning of this?" he said. "We've been down in that accursed thing for ages. Some of the humans actually inhaled the water. And yet not one of us has passed into the Next Dimension yet." Vegeta lifted the ball higher, grabbed the chain with two hands, and pulled it apart with a single, fluid motion. He then tossed the metal ball into the air and casually slapped it through the wall behind him. All without taking his eyes off Mr. Peabody. "Dog, you've got a lot of explaining to do."

"I am as confused as you are," said Mr. Peabody matter-of-factly. "And that is a rare occurrence indeed. You should have died by now."

"Yes," said Nibbler. "He should have. But someone has, apparently, found a way to rejuvenate the Pool without killing the sacrifices. Albus? Did you have anything to do with this?"

"I had nothing to do with it whatsoever," responded Dumbledore. "As much as I despised your methods, I was willing to concede to your argument that protecting the sacrifices from the Pool might jeopardise everything. Make no mistake—I am glad that this precaution was made, and that it worked. Yet I did not risk the action myself. Yet, to my knowledge, no one outside this room knows the Pool's true purpose. My only theory is that someone cast a very powerful, very vague protection spell on one of these people, and that spell must have allowed this Pool to extract energy without killing anyone."

"I thought my death sat near today," said Macbeth, "Yet fate has smiled and swerved the path. Though journeys can oft lead to naught, My eyes have seen and ears have heard A world more vast than man did know. It must be mine, and soon it shall."

"A mouse like you thinks you can conquer all the universes?" said Vegeta. "I've seen insects that could put up a better fight than you."

"If fights are drops, then soon you'll drown!" said Macbeth, drawing his sword.

"That'll be the day!" thundered Vegeta.

Macbeth pulled his sword and swung. Presumably, he swung; it was hard to make out because, almost immediately, Vegeta sped to Macbeth's spot, and Macbeth crashed into the far wall. And so Macduff was avenged.

"I should be upset at everything I went through," said Autumn. "But my experience did teach me to get everything I could from life, and my first 16 years were all the fuller for it. Hopefully, the rest of my life will be just as meaningful."

Arceus looked at Autumn, as if speaking telepathically.

"I appreciate the offer, but I think I would rather stay with my birth mother," said Autumn. "She is the one who created me."

Faith looked at her daughter, and a strong emotion was swelling in her bosom.

"Are you nuts?" said Faith, as anger swelled in her bosom. "He's a God, and I'm an unemployed convict who fights demons. Every day. I can't afford to send you to school or anything! You live with me, and your career paths will pretty much be limited to Red Shirt or whore."

"That's… a good point," said Autumn. "To be honest, I only said that because my heart told me to. But if you think that listening to my brain would be best, then, well, my heart tells me to do that instead."

Faith watched Autumn leave with Arceus. Once her daughter was out of earshot, she said to Angel, "I think my daughter's crazy."

"I know," said Angel.

"Well, that's what happens when one has no world to call their own," said Mr. Peabody. "Often, they slip into their own, unpredictable world." The dog then turned to a picture hanging on the wall. Like the dog, the portrait was crudely drawn. It's contents showed a generic demonic creature; shadowy, brimstone-red, and covered in horns. "That's what happened to the First Evil. Its parents were from different worlds. Because of that, it was born a being of pure malevolence. Its parents tried to set it on the right track, but to no avail. Shame, too. It could have been great. The years it spent as an amateur daredevil were quite promising."

"Come on now," said Giles. "That is the stupidest thing I've ever heard. And if a word of it were true, I'm sure I would have heard something about the First Evil's daredevil career."

"Really?" said Mr. Peabody. "You've really never heard of the First Evil Knievil?"

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_Bonus Flashback: The Murder of Joyce_

"_Mom? I'm home. Sorry I'm late. Breaking out of jail took longer than I expected."_

"_Hello, darling," said a voice from behind. Buffy turned to see Angel walking up the steps of the hotel. But Angel was supposed to be in his cell._

"_Angelus."_

_He nodded. "Yeah, that's about right. For a blonde, you're pretty smart. But just for a blonde."_

"_Mom!"_

"_I'm in the shower," returned Joyce's voice. "I'll be out in a minute."_

"_Hey, now is that nice?" said Angelus. "You know, if it wasn't for me, your mom wouldn't even be here. Who did you think brought her back?"_

"_We figured that out," said Buffy. "Kill her again, torture me again. God, Angelus, you're getting so predictable."_

"_Actually, I'm not," said Angelus. "For example, you assume I'm going to do something to her. I'm not."_

"_And lying, too? Tsk tsk. Really, I thought you were better than that."_

"_Oh, I'm not lying. I'm not going to do a thing to your mom. Got it? I am not going to do a thing to her. Say it slowly, and pay attention. Learn to analyse words for subtle meanings. I am not _going_ to. See? Future tense. You don't think I`d have sent her to meet you before saying 'hi' to her myself, do you?"_

_For a second, Buffy couldn't even speak. Only one translation of that sentence occurred to her, but she still desperately tried to think of another. "You… didn't."_

"_Sure. I mean, of course she hid it. After all, she wants to live, and that means letting you save the world, not telling you she's a vampire… you know, I probably should have let you keep going on thinking she was still alive for a few more weeks, but if she were to kill you in your sleep or something, you'd never have that heart-wrenching moment where you realise that you've lost your mom again, and that would defeat the whole purpose."_

"_Buffy? Is there someone else out there?"_

_Buffy mechanically grabbed a stake from her coat. Despite the lump in her throat, she forced herself to say, "Come out, mom. There's someone I want you to meet."_

_She watched as the door opened, revealing the form of her mother. Knowing what she did, it was too painful to see. Joyce glanced to Angelus, and Buffy threw the stake at her heart, hoping to end the pain as soon as possible._

_No matter how long she'd live, the next minute of her life would stay with her forever, burned into her memory. The blood just disgusted her at first, but then her mind caught up with her. Joyce--Buffy's actual mother, whole and still, for a second, alive--only just had time to look at her daughter, her eyes showing a look of hurt and betrayal that would never leave them. Buffy wouldn't touch the body after that--she didn't even want to think about it. She didn't feel she had the right to look any more, but turning away, too, would feel like more than she deserved. Every little comfort felt like she was cheating._

"_Wow! I can't believe that worked!" said Angelus. "I mean, I knew it was a risky move. Would even you be dumb enough to fall for it? But the satisfaction of knowing that one of my greatest masterpieces came together so beautifully… why, I don't think I'd ever--"_

_Angelus was too busy talking to notice the second stake as it pierced his chest. That, Buffy would later decide, was her mistake. She was mad and acted in haste. She should have been slower about it. She should have cut off Angelus' arms and legs, then nailed him to the east side of the building at night so that he'd suffer for hours. He would have appreciated that._

_But it wasn't enough. There were two others responsible for Joyce's death, and they both needed to die._

_One was the First Evil. She wasn't sure she could kill it, but she could screw up its plans. Do something to slow down its progress. Maybe, if she found its power source, she could destroy it once and for all. She'd probably die in the attempt, but that would take care of the second one._


End file.
